Jack doesn't mind, though he speaks so sharply. When you get
tired of us go out in the garden and have a romp with Jim."
But I must return to the conversation I referred to. It was one fine
June day, and Mrs. Morris was sewing in a rocking-chair by the window. I
was beside her, sitting on a hassock, so that I could look out into the
street. Dogs love variety and excitement, and like to see what is going
on out-doors as well as human beings. A carriage drove up to the door,
and a finely-dressed lady got out and came up the steps.
Mrs. Morris seemed glad to see her, and called her Mrs. Montague. I was
pleased with her, for she had some kind of perfume about her that I
liked to smell. So I went and sat on the hearth rug quite near her.
They had a little talk about things I did not understand and then the
lady's eyes fell on me. She looked at me through a bit of glass that was
hanging by a chain from her neck, and pulled away her beautiful dress
lest I should touch it.
I did not care any longer for the perfume, and went away and sat very
straight and stiff at Mrs. Morris' feet. The lady's eyes still followed
me.
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