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Rest's own beloved 'man o' God, John Walden. And that Lord Roxmouth had at once gone after her, and that neither of the twain 'weren't never comin' back no more. So said Bainton, twirling his cap round, and fixing his eyes sympathetically on his master's face, eyes as faithful as those of the dog Nebbie, who clambered at his master's knee, equally gazing up at him with a fondness exceeding all speech.
The decision was no sooner arrived at than he prepared to carry it out. Nebbie awoke with a start from his doze to see his master on the move, and quickly trotted after him across the lawn to the river.
Nebbie had been so much astonished at the loud pitch of his master's voice, that he had retired under a sofa in alarm, and only crawled out now as Spruce departed, with small anxious waggings of his tail. Walden patted the animal's head and laughed. "Mind you don't get deaf in your old age, Nebbie!" he said. "Phew! A little more shouting like that and I should be unable to preach to- morrow!"
Nebbie also knew that presently that same master of his would return again to make the circuit of the garden in the company of Bainton, according to custom, and as he stretched his four hairy paws out comfortably, and blinked his brown eyes at a portly blackbird prodding in the turf for a worm within a stone's throw of him, he was evidently considering whether it would be worth his while, as an epicurean animal, to escort these two men on their usual round on such a warm pleasant morning.
"Come to me at six o'clock, Bainton. I shall want you." "Very good, sir!" The pole splashed in the water, the punt shot out into the clear stream, Nebbie gave two short barks, as was his custom when he found himself being helplessly borne away from dry land, and in a few seconds Walden had disappeared round one of the bends of the river. Bainton stood ruminating for a minute.
"What petty souls we are!" he murmured; "Here am I feeling actually indignant because this fellow Leveson, who has less education and knowledge than my dog Nebbie, assumes to have some acquaintance with Miss Vancourt! What does it matter? What business is it of mine? If she cares to accept information from an ignoramus, what is it to do with me? Nothing! Yet, what a blatant ass the fellow is!
Walden patted the boy's rough towzled head gently, and thought of his faithful 'Nebbie. It would have been mere hypocrisy to preach resignation to Bob, when he, the Reverend John, knew perfectly well that if his own canine comrade had been thus cruelly slain, he also would have 'hated the quality. "Look here, Bob," he said at last, "I know just how you feel! It's just as bad as bad can be.
Outside, in the small garden, among mignonette and early flowering sweetpeas, Plato sat on his huge haunches in lion-like dignity, blinking at the sun, while Walden's terrier Nebbie executed absurd but entirely friendly gambols in front of him, now pouncing down on two forepaws with nose to ground and eyes leering sideways, now wagging an excited tail with excessive violence to demonstrate goodwill and a desire for amity. and anon giving a short yelp of suppressed feeling, to all of which conciliatory approaches Plato gave no other response than a vast yawn and meditative stare.
A wise-looking dog was Nebbie, though few would have thought that his full name was Nebuchadnezzar. Only the Reverend John knew that. Nebbie was perfectly aware that the children had come with the Maypole, and that his master had accompanied them to the big meadow.
There was a chill wind, and the garden looked bleak and deserted, though it was kept severely tidy, Bainton never failing to see that all fallen leaves were swept up every afternoon and all weeds 'kep' under. But there was no temptation to saunter down the paths or across the damp lawn in such weather, and Walden, seated by a blazing fire in his study, with Nebbie snoozing at his feet, was sufficiently comfortable to be glad that no 'parochial' duties called him forth just immediately from his warm snuggery.
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