"Because I don't choose to a silk cushion is good enough for his majesty. King!" (laying her soft cheek against the little dog's soft head, and forsaking her drawing for the purpose.)
"How you do love that dog!" said Hugh.
"Very well why shouldn't I? provided he steals no love from anybody else," said Fleda, still caressing him.
"What a noise somebody is making down stairs!" said Hugh. " I don't think I should ever want to go to large parties, Fleda; do you?"
"I don't know," said Fleda, whose natural taste for society was strongly developed; "it would depend upon what kind of parties they were."
"I shouldn't like them, I know, of whatever kind," said Hugh.
"What are you smiling at?"
"Only Mr. Pickwick's face, that I am drawing here."
Hugh came round to look and laugh, and then began again.
"I can't think of anything pleasanter than this room as we are now."
"You should have seen Mr. Carleton's library," said Fleda, in a musing tone, going on with her drawing.