Mr. Bonstone and his wife took their dinner in almost profound silence. Whether it was the presence of the servants in the room or not, I don’t know, but they seemed to be quite happy without talking.
After dinner they went, not back to the drawing-room, but to the smoking-room, which was furnished in quiet, dull colours. There were some big, leather-covered chairs by the fire, and Mr. Bonstone sat down in one, and resting his head on the back of it, stared at the ceiling, while his wife wandered about the room.
Neither Mr. Bonstone nor my master smoked, and for that I was very thankful, for though I can stand the smell of tobacco I, like most normal dogs, do not care for the smell of anything burning. I love strong odours, but not when they are on fire.
We dogs were ordered to go to the kitchen to get some dinner, and when we came back, the Bonstones were talking, but not about anything interesting to me, so I had a little conversation with Gringo.
We were going under the table which was covered with books and magazines. Underneath was a fine Turkish rug which made the floor very comfy, and I was just going to lie down on it, when Mrs. Bonstone said politely, “Lie by the fire, Boy, you are an honoured guest.”
I had begged Sir Walter to leave us for a while. He was thoroughly exhausted, having had a twenty-mile tramp with Mr. Bonstone that afternoon, and though he urged that his duties as host demanded that he stay till my call was over, I freed him from all obligations of a social nature, and told him to run off for forty winks, and come back refreshed.
Gringo and I were not sorry to be alone. “If I could tell you, old fellow,” I whispered in his soft, well set-up ear, “how sorry I’ve been not to take you about a bit and introduce you, but my master needed me, and I was consoled by hearing that Walter Scott was doing the handsome thing by you.”
“That dog’s right on the level,” said Gringo heartily. “He’s not used to my sort. In that castle in Scotland, where he was born, there was a set of dog-nobs. He never ran with common dogs till I came, but as he said himself, ‘My dear mistress sets the pace in this house—if she accepts you, it is my duty to accept you, too.’”
“He has introduced you properly to our set, hasn’t he?” I asked eagerly.
“He has done it fine. I know the whole bunch from those babies in arms, the toy spaniels, up to the biggest mastiff that stalks the Drive.”