"I couldn't help bringing him," I explained apologetically. "He adopted me at Strathmore last week, and his motto seems to be the same as Ruth's, 'Where thou goest I will go.' Do you mind dogs in the house?"
"I mind nothing," said Lady Bulstrode, "except rheumatism and travelling third-class. Come here, boy!"
She held out a hand to Rufus, who crawled up and seated himself carefully with his back against her skirt.
"George told me you were in these parts," she went on; "or, as he put it, 'pigging it upon some absurd island off Strathmore.'"
"Dear George!" I said. "He has all the simple candour of a British statesman."
"He has quite a high opinion of you," returned Lady Bulstrode, "though he thinks you're a little mad."
"He's probably right. Anyhow, I'm very thirsty," I replied, as the door opened and Parkes came in with the whisky.
I mixed myself a long drink and, at Lady Bulstrode's command, lighted a cigarette.
"I had a talk with George the other day," I said, when the door closed behind us again. "He thinks it's quite time I settled down."
"What do you think about it?" asked Lady Bulstrode.