“I think I could persuade Belisarius,” she said, with a sigh. “He puts up with Vic, and I could make him understand that the dog was not ours.”
Claudia, sounded, expressed pleasure. Nothing was said as to Harry’s part in the affair until a very perfectly bred fox-terrier arrived one day from Thornbury, and then she admired him too much to have qualms as to his acceptance. It is true that she said hastily to Anne, “My taking this doesn’t mean anything?” And Anne could truthfully assure her that she was not the first person to receive a dog from Thornbury; but without this assurance, she did justice to a certain generosity in Harry Hilton’s character, which would prevent his trying to place her under an obligation.
The dog was a greater success than the bicycle, partly from his merits, partly from an aptitude for getting into trouble; not from disagreeableness—for he had a delightful temper, but from a cheerful joy in fighting for fighting’s sake, which kept Claudia constantly on the alert. There was an awful battle on the first day between him and Belisarius, which laid a foundation of mutual respect, though it nearly killed Philippa; and a sponge and hot water were invariably ready for Claudia, when she returned from a long bicycle ride. One day she surprised Anne by saying—
“I think I will go to Thornbury to-morrow, before the days get too short.”
“Do,” said Anne. “You won’t find Harry there.”
“No. I heard you telling Emily that he was away. I should like to see Mrs Hilton and the trees.”
She carried out her intention, which was perhaps meant as much to give Fox pleasure as for any other reason. The morning was fresh, the sky whitening for rain. When she reached Thornbury, Mrs Hilton’s delight and distress expressed themselves with many a “so.”
“My dear, it is so good of you to come! And all that way! Why, you must be tired to death, poor thing! And it is so annoying that Harry should be away! His father was a little better, and he had been waiting for an opportunity to run up to London, so he went, and will not be back till to-morrow. I am so sorry!”
“I knew that he was away. I came to see you, and I thought you would give me some luncheon.”
“Indeed I will. So good of you to think of such a thing, and on your bicycle, too! I have just had a letter from Helen Arbuthnot; you remember her, don’t you?” Claudia’s face was turned in another direction. “Yes,” she answered.