Almost as she spoke Gaunt re-entered, and Grim the collie slunk in at his heels.
"I'm most awfully sorry for bolting like that, but it was important," he said, in tones of would-be friendly frankness. With that he turned to shut the dog out.
"Oh, let her come in, poor old girl! What has she done to be shut out?" cried Virgie, sitting on her heels upon the floor.
"I—I don't think your cats like her," he replied, hesitating.
"Well, I never! They will have to like her. If they are to live in the same house, they must be friends," was the quick retort. "Grim, Grim, poor old girl, come here then!"
Grim, more perceptive than her master, was quick to perceive the invitation in the sweet voice, and came bounding into the circle of firelight. Damian sat up and spat, his back an arch, his tail a column. Virgie flung her arms round Grim's handsome neck and hugged her.
"Don't you take a bit of notice of that cheeky kitten, my dear. If he doesn't like you, he can lump you. This was your house, long before he was born or thought of," she said, petting the collie till her tail thumped the ground with ecstasy; her tongue hung out and she slobbered with utter content.
"Osbert," said Virgie calmly, "there's a sheepskin mat out in the hall that would just do for her beside the fire here in the corner. If that is her place, the cats will very soon recognise it. Will you go and fetch it in for me, please?"
"But"—he paused—"this is your room, isn't it? and Grim's a big dog. Her place is in my den."
"Oh, she'll very soon find out where the warmest corner is, won't you, girl?" laughed Virgie. "Even if you won't come into my room, I'll warrant she will! Unless"—with a daring glance—"you mean us to have separate establishments, even to the dogs and cats?"