Two more animals appeared and made for a rock of their own. And then there were, suddenly, dozens—all around the edge of the meadow. These were petite, creamy, with lavender ears. They came bounding forward in pairs, sat up and regarded the Buttons solemnly.
Charles began to relax. Somehow, Sugar Plum didn't seem half so enormous any longer, now that they weren't so alone.
"I wonder if they could be tamed." Betty was wistful.
"They're certain to be just full of fleas," sniffed Cousin Aurelia.
The creatures were playful. As the Buttons walked over the meadow, they frolicked around them—
But they also were very affectionate. As they frolicked, they flirted. Every once in a while, each pair would pause to rub noses, to murmur seductively, to nip one another.
At first, Cousin Aurelia tried to pretend they weren't there. But finally she halted. "Charles Edward Button, I won't go a step farther till you drive those nasty things away. It's disgraceful. They're apt to do—anything!"
Charles flushed under his netting. "Shoo!" he said ineffectively. "Beat it!"
There was a swift patter of feet straight ahead and a figure flashed into view. She was slim. She was small, with a girdle and headdress of feathers. Her skin was sky-blue, and her ears were pointed, and her eyes were simply enormous. But she looked distressingly human.
In an instant, she vanished. As the Buttons stood there goggling, they heard more running footsteps, somewhat heavier, and a scuffle, a giggle, a clear, tenor laugh, and then silence.