Miss Noble was looking directly into Reynolds' face, as she delivered this girlish speech, and she saw something like a shadow flit across his brow and eyes, as if her words had caused him annoyance, but it passed away instantly.
"If you really are fond of dogs," he said, "I shall be proud to show you mine. I fancy I have two that can not be matched in the whole world."
"What sort are they?" she inquired with immediate interest. "You see my father has made me quite a connoisseur; I am away up in dog-knowledge." She held up a little plump hand to show how high her attainments soared.
"Are they pointers, setters or droppers?"
Reynolds laughed. Her outright earnestness of interest in such a subject amused him, whilst it also made him feel justified in pursuing the theme, always a pleasant one to a genuine sportsman.
"One is a pointer, the other a setter," he answered.
"And do they work well together? Do they understand each other's movements, back each other, and all that?" she inquired.
"In the most perfect way imaginable. They are like perfectly drilled soldiers, their minds seem to keep pace exactly."
"Oh, isn't it the most beautiful sight! I know it must be. My father has described it to me so often and I am so anxious to see something of it. I don't know why I shouldn't, do you? Mamma rather objects—talks of cruelty to birds, and sneers in her sweet way, at the idea of a young lady caring for field sports. Do you see any wrong in it? I really think I should like to have a gun."
"When I was in India I saw a young lady shoot at a tiger," said Reynolds, "but she missed it."