"Thank you, Miss Terry," remarked the man, "I am much obliged to you. Pray be seated, ma'am."
I was interested, in spite of myself. "Yours is a very remarkable dog, Mr. Treffit," I said.
"Yes'm; very much so indeed. Miss Terry is the name I gave 'er, because she is a 'mystery.' See? Ha! ha! Very good that, eh? Mystery—Miss Terry. Miss Terry and me, ma'am, has appeared before the nobility, clergy and gentry of a dozen counties."
I expressed polite astonishment and inquired for Mrs. Treffit.
"My wife, ma'am, is upstairs in the chamber. If you want her I will send for her. Miss Terry, will you convey my respects to the missis, and ask her to step this way?" The request was accompanied by a significant gesture in the direction of the narrow staircase, and the dog, with an inclination of the head which might have been intended for a bow, bounded up the steps and returned with its mistress. Its mistress? No, I withdraw the word—with its master's wife.
She coughed a good deal as she came down, and I suggested that a short walk in the sunshine would do her good, but she shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Miss 'Olden, but I'm that busy I couldn't leave just now. I was wonderin' if you'd mind comin' upstairs while I get on with my work."
"Sit down a bit, can't you?" said the man; "I want Miss Terry to show this lady some of her tricks. You're always in such a desperate hurry, you are."
"Someb'dy has to be in a 'urry," she replied, "when there's naught comin' in, an' three mouths to feed, to say nothin' of the dog, which costs nearly as much as all t' rest put together."
"You leave the dog alone," he growled; "Miss Terry brings in as much as all t' rest put together, doesn't she?"