When Sam had told scandals enough of great people, to keep all Ludred in a ferment for a month—though I noticed with surprise his delicacy and deference to the fact (if to no other) that he was speaking in the presence of a maiden lady—he played another card, even more effective; he asked, as the very greatest favour he could think of, the honour of an introduction to the noblest circle of dogs now existing in the kingdom.
“Perhaps you will regret it, Mr. Henderson,” Aunt Parslow replied, with a smile and a blush, for she had a very pretty colour still, which had varied with some of his narratives. “My dogs are perfect little wizards and witches. They took to my nephew, because he is a Parslow, and perhaps because he is so innocent. But you have seen so much of the world—”
“Yet kept myself quite untainted by it.” He spoke with such gravity that I was obliged to turn away. “Next to the society of accomplished ladies, I enjoy that of horses, and of thorough-bred dogs. With a very long interval between, of course. But I scarcely ever meet an accomplished lady. What a lucky mark I must put to this day! Oh, if I could only show you my little Tim! He can stand on his tail, and sing ‘Rule Britannia,’ and beat time with all his four legs in the air. But compared to your dogs he is nothing but a cur! What beauties! Why, Miss Parslow, I will never trust my eyes again.”
“Yes, they are very pretty, and as good as any children, or a great deal better, I might say. Jupiter, don’t growl, sir. Cleopatra, take your teeth out of Mr. Henderson’s boot. Vulcan, and Venus, and Mercury—oh dear!”
At a signal from Jupiter, the ancient pug, all the pets had made a rush at the bewildered Sam, and a chorus of yells arose as he was obliged, in self-defence, to kick at them. Then they rallied in a body round the corner of the side-board, snarling and showing their little white teeth, with their bristles erect and their eyes full of fire, bravely encouraging one another for a still fiercer charge at the stranger. And he would have had the worst of it, or killed some of the tiny ones, if I had not spied a light whip in the lobby, and given Master Jupiter a crack on his fat sides, which made him bolt with a howl, and all his army followed suit.
“Oh, how shall I punish them? Do forgive me. I never knew them do such a thing before. And I thought them such excellent judges of character! How could I imagine that they would ever fly at you! And they have pulled down the cloth, and broken two decanters that belonged to my dear mother. But that is nothing, Mr. Henderson, compared with the shocking fright they have given you. How can I ever thank you for not killing them?”
Then Henderson, with the skill of Hannibal, turned his defeat into victory. “What plucky little chaps they are!” he said; “I did all I could to put them in a rage, on purpose to test their breeding. Perhaps you saw me flash this pin at them. If anything drives a small dog wild, it is to catch him in the eyes with a large carbuncle. But I got the worst of it, and serve me right. I only hope I may not have hurt any of the darlings.”
“You are magnanimity itself, my dear sir;” Aunt Parslow glanced shyly at his very good trousers, which would never be quite so good again; “the main point is whether you are hurt. Even a very little dog, you know—.”
“Miss Parslow, a dog, unless really rabid, is not a quarter so venomous as a cat. If I had been attacked like that by cats, I could not have dared to show a bit of mercy, even if they had been prime favourites of yours.”
“Oh, I cannot bear cats. I am so glad you draw that most just distinction. Dogs are so noble and generous, so candid and loving, and chivalrous. They showed that, even when they did their best to bite you. But a cat is so stealthy, and crawling, and crafty, and I might even say bloodthirsty. Next to my dogs, I love my birds, the dear little things that come and sing, even in the—not by any means an elegant expression—of winter. Not a robin could live here, until I had my doggies. But that sounds like the front-door bell! Kit, would you oblige me by just seeing who it is? Jenny and Biddy are engaged, I know. What a very strange thing, if it should be Miss Chalker! Of course, you never heard of our belle Chalker, Mr. Henderson.”