She felt just a little startled; she had not known the strange-looking boy was still there.

Then she told herself quickly that this surely must be Godfrey Radmore's godson--the child to whom he had sent one of her late husband's puppies.
There came over pretty Mrs.Crofton a slight feeling of apprehension and discomfiture--she could not have told why.
"When did you last see my godfather ?" he asked abruptly, in an unchildish voice, and with a quaintly grown-up manner.
"Your godfather ?" she repeated hesitatingly, and yet she knew quite well who he meant.
"I mean Major Radmore," he explained.
She wondered why the disagreeable little fellow had asked such an indiscreet question.
Then, reluctantly, she made up her mind she had better answer it truly: "I saw him the day before yesterday." She forced herself to go on lightly.

"I suppose you're the young gentleman to whom he sent a puppy last year ?" He nodded, and then asked another disconcerting question: "Did you leave your dog outside?
Dolly thought you didn't like dogs, so my terrier, Flick, has been shut up in the stable.

I suppose you only like your own dog--I'm rather like that, too." "I haven't got a dog," she answered nervously.

"It's quite true that I don't like dogs--or, rather, I should like them if they liked me, but they don't." "Then the dog that was with you belonged to the old gentleman ?" "Old gentleman ?" repeated Mrs.Crofton vaguely.