On his side, Nimrod was equally rejoiced. His velvet nostrils caressed the little girl’s cheeks and flowing hair, while his dainty forefoot gently pawed the ground in expression of delight and not impatience. Prince stood looking on, unmoved. He was not Sobrante raised and seemed to feel it; or so Jessica fancied, as she left off petting Nimrod and passed to Prince’s side, to stroke his head also, and to murmur words of praise for good behavior in bringing Ephraim safely home.
Then “Forty-niner” led the beast away, while Jessica sped after Ninian, who had been greeted––almost grasped––by Aunt Sally. She had drawn him indoors, laughing, crying, whispering, entreating, all in a breath:
“Oh, oh, oh, land of Goshen! My suz! If you ain’t the gladdest sight I’ve seen this dog’s age! How are you, how are you? Slim? You certainly do look slim,” she declared, as she led him into the radiance of the lamp and critically peered into his face, both through and above her spectacles.
“Well, my good friend, I never was anything but slim, as I remember. And I have been just a bit ailing, if that’s your meaning. However, I’m all right now, most delighted to be here, and wholly at your service or that of anybody else who needs me. How are the children? Ephraim said that they were ill. And Mrs. Trent?”
As if in answer to his questions, there was a patter of bare feet on the stairs and in came Luis, his great dark eyes looking twice their normal size and his voice shrill with excitement, as he tried to say:
“Ned––Ned’s gone and got––and got––Ned’s gone got gone roof. Oh, oh!”
Mrs. Benton dropped Ninian’s hand which she had continued to hold and shake up and down, much in the manner of one pumping water, and caught up the child to also shake him vigorously:
“Hi! What’s that you say? Don’t you dare to tell auntie a story. What’s Neddy–––Oh, my land! all the catnip’s gone out of my life, seems if!”
The reporter and Jessica looked at each other and burst into laughter. It was impossible to help it, Aunt Sally’s manner had been so droll and yet so 159 dramatic; and, oddly enough, over Ninian there stole again the feeling that he had come home, and that the griefs and perplexities of this household had become his own. With that his merriment was over, for the fear Mrs. Benton’s face had betrayed was sincere.