Christopher gave no testimony in the case. He may have been overcome by the confusion; at any rate he withdrew into his shell and preserved a studied calm from which he could not be roused.
“I think you can have him,” said Dicky suddenly to Dorothy, who had come through the fence at the corner where her yard joined her cousins’. “He botherth me.”
“Very well,” said Dorothy. “Let’s take him over to Sweetbrier Lodge this afternoon. We’re all going over there anyway—bring him along, Dicky.”
So the procession set forth, Dicky and his shell-covered friend at the fore, escorted by all the rest of the United Service Club, while Miss Merriam and her charge, whose walking ability had not yet developed much speed, brought up the rear.
As they all toiled up the hill to Sweetbrier Lodge Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Morton came out on the veranda of the new house to watch them.
“Has anything happened?” called Mrs. Smith as soon as they were within earshot.
“We’re just bringing Christopher over to his new home,” Dorothy explained to her mother.
“‘The time of the singing of birds is come,
And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land,’”
quoted Mrs. Morton. “I used to think that that meant a turtle like Dicky’s and not a turtle-dove,” and the two mothers laughed and disappeared within the house while the younger people kept on to the garden and the concrete pool.