“Well, let’s ask Margaret what there is among your things to amuse ourselves with,” she said cheerily. “All sorts of odds and ends were packed with your clothes!”
“Were there?” said Boy. “Mother didn’t pack them—it was the servant.”
Again Miss Letty made no comment, and Boy holding her by the arm went with her to Margaret, who, on being questioned, smiled, and opened a cupboard full of curious-looking objects.
“They’re all more or less broken, my leddy!” she said. “But the Cow is here as good as it ever was!”
“The Cow!” and Miss Letty laughed, but a little moisture suffused her eyes.
Boy looked at her questioningly.
“What’s the Cow?” he asked.
“Ah, darling, you have grown to be such a little man now that you don’t remember the poor Cow!” said Miss Letty half laughingly, half sadly. “Where is it, Margaret?”
Margaret selected it from the heap in the cupboard, and gave it gingerly into the hand of her mistress—the same wise-looking quadruped, with its movable head wagging as faithfully as ever.
Boy looked at it with a smile that was almost derisive.