He was in the act of rising cautiously with the intention of solving this mystery, when the door opened and the elder sister came in, Daintry following her. “My father is not in, Mr. Lindo,” Kate said, advancing to meet him, and shaking hands with him.
“No; so I learned down-stairs,” he answered. “But I——”
The girl—she had scarcely turned from him—cut him short with an exclamation of dismay. “Oh, Daintry, you naughty girl!” she cried. “You have brought Snorum up.”
“Well,” said Daintry simply—a large white dog, half bull-dog, half terrier, with red-rimmed eyes and projecting teeth, had crept in at her heels—“he followed me.”
“You know papa would be so angry if he found him here.”
“But I only want him to see Mr. Lindo. You are unkind, Kate! You know he never gets a chance of seeing a stranger.”
“You want to know if he likes me?” the rector said, laughing.
“That is it,” she answered, nodding.
But Kate, though she laughed, was inexorable. She bundled the big dog out. “Do you know, she has two more like that, Mr. Lindo?” she said, apologetically.
“Snip and Snap,” said Daintry. “But they are not like that. They are smaller. Jack gave me Snorum, and Snip and Snap are Snorum’s sons.”