“Beatrice!”
By the time they reached the outer kitchen, whence the terrible sounds proceeded, Robert had been collared by Mr. Dolloway and was being shaken violently to and fro, while Roland was pitifully caressing the cat which their guest had brought, and which cowered in its rescuer’s embrace, hiding its head beneath the friendly arm and shivering as if in an ague.
“Mr. Dolloway! What are you doing? Can you and my darling never meet but you must come to an open battle? It is perfectly scandalous!” cried Bonny, indignantly, and taking upon herself the reproof of the troublesome neighbor.
“Yes, miss! That is what I say! It is a burning shame and a scandalous outrage! I’ll teach him, the little whelp! They’s a society of Prevention folks up here, and I’ll hand his name in afore I’m many days older, or my name ain’t spelt John Dolloway!”
“Will—you—lemme—’lone? I’ll—I’ll—”
Hereupon Mrs. Beckwith laid her hand upon the old man’s arm, and he instantly released his hold of the unhappy “Humpty-Dumpty.”
“Robert, what did you do?”
“I—I jest—I—He said—Oh! oh!”
“Silence, my son. Wait till you can collect yourself, then answer me.”
For the space of a few seconds the little boy’s sobs and moans continued, then he looked up as brightly as if trouble were a thing unknown. “He said they was room to swing a cat, an’ I was a measurin’ to see how much that was; that’s all.”