[Pg 11]

“Tell you what, Bob,” he cried, nearly choking himself with joy, “this red-headed Jew is going to find trouble. He is sure to drop into the stable to-morrow. I’ll keep you posted in affairs inside the house, and, when I give you the office, you’ll let him have both heels in the right place, eh?”

“I’ll do my best,” I coughed, and Jim wondered what was the matter, as there are no flies about in winter-time.

Meanwhile, Minkie took Schwartz in hand, and my long ears were not given me for amusement.

“We thought you were not coming until next week,” she said, by way of being polite.

“I finished some business in Paris sooner than I expected, and Mr. Grosvenor was good enough to ask me to spend Christmas and New Year at Dale End. I shall enjoy the visit immensely, I am sure. I have not had a Christmas at home for many years.”

“At home?” Minkie raised her large blue eyes so innocently. I knew exactly how she looked, and I rattled my harness to tell her I was listening.

[Pg 12]

[Pg 12]

“Yes; in England, I mean.”

“Ah.”

“Don’t you call England ‘home,’ too?”

“Of course, but I live here.”

“So do I.”

“Sorry. I fancied you just said you had been in some other country for a long time.”

“Well, I’m a bit of a cosmopolitan, I admit. Do you know what a cosmopolitan is?”

“It means anything but English.”

Mr. Schwartz roared. “Gad!” he cried, “that is not so far wrong.”

An old gentleman passed us in a mail phaeton, drawn by a pair of fat cobs, your bellows-to-mend and step-short sort. They don’t like me, because I always make a point of giving them the dust in summer, so one of them snorted, “Station hack!”

 Prev. P 6/79 next