“How many of the detestable creatures have you?” inquired Serena grandly, and she threw up her head, and looked at me as if she had glasses on. It is her usual trick. She thinks it is smart to pretend that she has a pair of spectacles over the bridge of her nose. She knows it makes me feel small and kittenish, and as if I don't know anything.
“There are two,” I said, “and I have got used to them already. They are the two best dogs that were ever made.”
“You speak in superlatives, my dear child,” purred Serena elegantly. “What breed are the creatures?”
“One is a tiny spaniel,” I replied crossly, “and one is a St. Bernard.”
“The two breeds I most dislike,” murmured Serena. “How tiresome, I shall not be able to go to see you.”
“Don't mind her,” purred my mother in my ear. “She and Jimmy have been contrary and nervous since you left. They miss you very much, and so does your dear father.”
“By the way,” I said, “what became of the cat Mrs. Darley brought home to take my place? 'Jane' she called her.”
“Oh! that vulgar creature,” exclaimed Serena elevating her nose. “We soon chased her down-stairs. She undertook to fight, but I settled her.”
“She is happier in the kitchen,” murmured my mother. “She is a peculiar cat.”
“What do you get to eat at your house?” inquired Jimmy Dory suddenly, and smacking his lips as he spoke.