I was so surprised I tumbled over against the gentleman, and he said, “My word!” and his teacup upset and the hot tea came down on me.
The mistress cried out, “Oh, that miserable dog! Oh, I’m so sorry!” And then James came in, and the mistress said, “James, take that dog out and shut him up somewhere.”
James picked me up and carried me out, and he held me so tight I yelped. Out in the hall he dropped me and pushed me with his foot. “Go on upstairs!” he said in a low, fierce voice. “Go on!” And I ran up, and hid under the sofa in the nursery. I was so miserable I didn’t know what to do. I did hope the other dogs wouldn’t come up there. I was ashamed to see them. But it hadn’t been my fault; it was Bijou’s. Only nobody seemed to think of that. If Tommy had been there he would have known. I was his dog, and he loved me and thought I was cute, even if nobody else did like me or want to have me around.
IV
I DIDN’T see the other dogs until the next day. They came up in the nursery only now and then,—mostly when there wasn’t any fire in the drawing-room or when the mistress was out.
I think she must have been out the next afternoon, and the fire, too, because they came trotting upstairs soon after lunch and came in where I was. I had jumped up in Tommy’s chair and was lying there. I liked to lie in his chair, and someone had laid a cushion on it that morning, so it was soft and warm.
Fifine came over toward the chair and looked at me in a snarly way, and I knew she wanted me to get out of it and let her have it, but I wouldn’t.
Prince Coco sat down close against the radiator. He always chose the hottest place. He yawned, and then he looked over at me in sort of a proud, lazy way.