"The stables are safely closed at night, mother," was the somewhat curious reply of Mr. Chandos.
"Robin says the dog sprang through the window; dashed through the glass. There can be no security against that, day or night."
"My opinion is, that some of the men must have been teasing him and so worked him into a fury. I shall inquire into it, and if I find it to be the fact, whoever did it shall go. Better precaution shall be observed for the future."
"Yes," said Lady Chandos, in a decisive tone, "and that precaution must be the sending away of the dog."
"But really, mother, there is no necessity."
"Harry, I am surprised at you. You know why I urge it: why I ought to urge it."
The conversation did not make me feel very comfortable, and I interposed, "I do beg that no change may be made on my account, Lady Chandos. No harm is done. I am not hurt."
"It is not on your account I am speaking, Miss Hereford. And—as you are not hurt—I am pleased that the thing has happened, because it must prove to Mr. Chandos the necessity of sending away the dog. He could not see it previously."
"I should see it equally with you, mother, were the dog to be insecurely fastened. But if we make him secure——"
"You deemed him secure now," she interrupted. "I will not risk it. Good heavens, Harry! have you forgotten the stake?"