“Do you want me to go away?”
“Yaw,” she said rudely, so I went. I made my way down-stairs, and out in the yard. Mona and Dolly would like to hear the good news, but bless me, they knew it already. Human tongues, and dog tongues, and cat tongues carry news like the wind. Anthony had heard Mr. and Mrs. Denville talking, and the table-maid had heard, and they had told the house-maid, and the house-maid had told the cook, and the cook had told the kitchen-maid, and Mona had overheard, and so she knew, and Dolly knew. However, the dogs were glad to get further details from me.
Mona asked me first thing how I felt, and said that she had missed me during the last week. Then she wanted to know how Slyboots was behaving herself.
“Beautifully,” I said. “She lets me alone, and I let her alone.”
“That is the best way, when there is incompatibility of temper,” said Mona. “You absolutely can't get on with some creatures without quarrelling.”
“Well, this is great news about the country, isn't it?” I remarked.
“Glorious,” said Mona heartily. “I love the country.”
“I have heard of Maine,” I said cautiously. “It is all country, isn't it? Now, what is the country like? You know I have never been off Beacon Hill.”
“What do you imagine it is like?” she asked.
“Something like the Common?”