Sandy invited him to take luncheon with him, after which they repaired to the lodgings of his friend where he was presented with a young Scotch terrier of great intelligence.
Sandy’s pleasure in the gift was enhanced by that of Mr. Courtney, and when Roy and Cecil came over that evening they could scarcely tear themselves away in time to study their next day’s lessons, so charmed were they with the terrier.
The parrot was kept on the porch, as a rule, and in order to hear its quaint speeches one had to go there, but the terrier was here, there and everywhere; and Hilda was almost tempted at times to defer her reading in the library to be amused by the antics of the canine foreigner.
Seeing her fondness for the terrier, Chloe was loth to complain of it, but could not at times refrain when his mischief grew too pronounced.
“That pup is mighty mischievous, honey,” she said one afternoon upon recovering her breath after chasing the terrier to get her clean turban which he had captured. “You don’t know the tricks that terrier can play. When the door-bell rings and I go to let company in, I’m never sartin that a pile of bones or ol’ shoes won’t fall in when I open the door.”
“I wonder why he likes best to put them at the front door when there are so many doors to the house?” laughed Hilda.
“Jes’ to be as tricky as ever he kin, honey, and where he finds the ol’ shoes is the riddle I can’t guess. I never sees none layin’ around, and I burns all he fotches in.”
“But he is so funny, Chloe, and we all love him so!”
“I’m not gwine to say nothin’ agin him, honey, and haven’t said nothin’, even when he tore up my best turban that Mis’ Emma done give me. Mrs. Flynn feeds him. She puts a piece of oilcloth on the floor by the table and gives the terrier scraps while she and Mr. Sandy is eatin’.”
One afternoon Mrs. Courtney, Mrs. Merryman and Hilda went to take tea at “My Lady’s Manor,” a charming walk across the fields that lovely day, and Hilda was the happiest of the happy.