"Well, at least, Monica," remarked Bertha, as they sat over their
teacups that afternoon, "however strange these people may be, it is our
duty to be as polite to them as to the others."
"Most certainly," acquiesced her sister.
"Since we have called upon Mrs. Hay Denver and upon the Misses Walker,
we must call upon this Mrs. Westmacott also."
"Certainly, dear. As long as they are living upon our land I feel as
if they were in a sense our guests, and that it is our duty to welcome
them."
"Then we shall call to-morrow," said Bertha, with decision.
"Yes, dear, we shall. But, oh, I wish it was over!"
At four o'clock on the next day, the two maiden ladies set off upon
their hospitable errand. In their stiff, crackling dresses of black
silk, with jet-bespangled jackets, and little rows of cylindrical grey
curls drooping down on either side of their black bonnets, they looked
like two old fashion plates which had wandered off into the wrong
decade. Half curious and half fearful, they knocked at the door of
number three, which was instantly opened by a red-headed page-boy.
Yes, Mrs. Westmacott was at home. He ushered them into the front room,
furnished as a drawing-room, where in spite of the fine spring weather a
large fire was burning in the grate. The boy took their cards, and then,
as they sat down together upon a settee, he set their nerves in a thrill
by darting behind a curtain with a shrill cry, and prodding at something
with his foot. The bull pup which they had seen upon the day before
bolted from its hiding-place, and scuttled snarling from the room.
"It wants to get at Eliza," said the youth, in a confidential whisper.
"Master says she would give him more'n he brought." He smiled affably
at the two little stiff black figures, and departed in search of his
mistress.
"What--what did he say?" gasped Bertha.
"Something about a---- Oh, goodness gracious! Oh, help, help, help,
help, help!" The two sisters had bounded on to the settee, and stood
there with staring eyes and skirts gathered in, while they filled the
whole house with their yells. Out of a high wicker-work basket which
stood by the fire there had risen a flat diamond-shaped head with wicked
green eyes which came flickering upwards, waving gently from side to
side, until a foot or more of glossy scaly neck was visible. Slowly the
vicious head came floating up, while at every oscillation a fresh burst
of shrieks came from the settee.