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Rosalie's kitten seemed afraid of the large black dog, and crept into the child's arms. When they had chatted together for some time, Rosalie ventured to mention the picture, saying that it seemed so strange to see it here, for that she had one exactly like it. 'Oh, have you? said the woman. 'That's Jinx's picture. An old man gave it to him just a year ago, it will be; it was at Pendleton fair.
But in one corner of the field Rosalie discovered the bright yellow caravans of the show of 'Lord Fatimore and other Pleasing Varieties. She could not pass by without going for a moment to the caravan to thank Old Mother, and John Thomas and Jinx, for their kindness to her the day before. Mother was having a great wash of all John Thomas's clothes, and Lord Fatimore's and Jinx's and her own.
She had been very silent all evening, sitting most of the time with her hands in her lap, and her eyes on Willy Cameron. Rather like Jinx's eyes they were, steady, unblinking, loyal, and with something else in common with Jinx which Willy Cameron never suspected. "I wouldn't come, if I were you," she said, unexpectedly. "Why, Edie, you've been thinking of asking him right along."
But Skirrywinks seemed to be Jinx's favourite; long after the others were dismissed she sat on his shoulders, watching his every movement. 'Well, what do you think of them? he said, turning to Rosalie when he had finished. 'They're very clever, said the child 'very clever indeed! 'That kit of yours couldn't do as much, said Jinx, looking scornfully at the kitten which lay in Rosalie's lap.
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