mature reflection, he took up his quarters on one of the two little white beds in the night nursery, deciding that there, sooner or later, his friends must return, was it not too bad that Nurse, hobbling about again after her rheumatic attack, which she had made much worse by fretting,—­was it not too bad that she should unceremoniously dislodge him with never a “by your leave,” or “with your leave”?

Toby shook himself and walked off in disgust.

“You very silly and stupid old woman,” he said to her in his own mind, “if you only had the sense to understand my language, you would see that the only rational thing to do is to wait for Duke and Pam in a place where they are sure to come.  And that is their beds.  I have thought it out, I assure you.  But there is no use trying to put reasonable ideas into human beings’ heads.  I might bark myself black in the face before any one could take in what I mean.”

It was just after this that he had wandered away downstairs in search of a quiet corner; and on first entering the parlour Grandmamma spoke to him so kindly that he began to think of bestowing his company upon her for the rest of the day, especially as she was always installed near a good fire.  Toby dearly loved a fire; even on a hot summer’s day the kitchen fire had great attractions for him.  But when Mrs. Twiss came in, and he, as was his duty and business of course, went to the door to see who it was, that officious Dymock shut him out again, and actually when he whined and scratched in the politest manner to be let in Grandmamma spoke crossly to him.

“Et tu, Brute!” thought Toby to himself.  What was coming over the world?

On the whole he was not sorry to find himself trotting down the lane beside Barbara, whom he had a sincere regard for.  She spoke to him with proper respect; she was not given to shoves like Dymock, or sharp expressions like Nurse and Biddy, and when she called him to follow her, Toby willingly followed.

“You’re to come along with me, poor doggie,” she said.  “You’re only a worry to the good lady at present, and I’m pleased to have your company.  Besides, who knows, you’re a sharp dog, Toby, and you and I will keep our eyes and ears open, and you your nose as well, for that’s a gift the more, you have, you doggies, nor us.”

And so saying Barbara and her companion made their way to the cross-roads, a point well known in the country-side.  For there a great finger-post served the double purpose of informing the traveller in four directions and of frightening many a country lad or lassie of a moonlight night, when it stood gaunt and staring like a gigantic skeleton, as everybody knows the meeting of cross-roads is at no time a canny spot.