“Oh, it's no matter, father,” she replied pleasantly; “if it's really important, I can postpone going for another day, and—”
“Really important!” repeated the old gentleman irascibly. “Haven't I just told you it's of the greatest importance? There's no time to be lost; and with my state of health too, it's of the utmost consequence that I shouldn't be troubled. It's very bad for me; I should think you would realize that, Marian.”
“I'll tell Thomas to take the carriage directly back,” said Mrs. Whitney stepping to the door. “Or stay, father; I'll just run up and send the children out for a little drive. The horses ought to be used too, you know,” she said lightly, preparing to run up to carry out the changed plan.
“Never mind that now,” said Mr. King abruptly. “I want you to give me your attention directly.” And walking towards the library door, getting a fresh accession of impatience with every step, he beckoned her to follow.
But his progress was somewhat impeded by little Dick—or rather, little Dick and Prince, who were standing at the top of the stairs to see Mrs. Whitney off. When he saw his mother retrace her steps, supposing her yielding to the urgent entreaties that he was sending after her to stay at home, the child suddenly changed his “Good-byes” to vociferous howls of delight, and speedily began to plunge down the stairs to welcome her.
But the staircase was long, and little Dick was in a hurry, and besides, Prince was in the way. The consequence was, nobody knew just how, that a bumping noise struck into the conversation that made the two below in the hall look up quickly, to see the child and dog come rolling over the stairs at a rapid rate.
“Zounds!” cried the old gentleman. “Here, Thomas, Thomas!” But as that individual was waiting patiently outside the door on the carriage box, there was small hope of his being in time to catch the boy, who was already in his mother's arms, not quite clear by the suddenness of the whole thing, as to how he came there.
“Oh! oh! Dicky's hurt!” cried somebody up above—followed by every one within hearing distance, and all came rushing to the spot to ask a thousand questions all in the same minute.
There sat Mrs. Whitney in one of the big carved chairs, with little Dick in her lap, and Prince walking gravely around and around him with the greatest expression of concern on his noble face. Mr. King was storming up and down, and calling on everybody to bring a “bowl of water, and some brown paper; and be quick!” interpolated with showers of blame on Prince for sitting on the stairs, and tripping people up! while Dick meanwhile was laughing and chatting, and enjoying the distinction of making so many people run, and of otherwise being the object of so much attention!
“I don't think he was sitting on the stairs, father,” said Jasper, who, when he saw that Dicky was really unhurt, began to vindicate his dog. “He never does that; do you Sir?” he said patting the head that was lifted up to him, as if to be defended.