Poor boy! He's had monkey enough
for to-day, I'll warrant."
They soon left the table, for Faith could not eat another mouthful, and
all felt anxious to know how the battle had ended. They at length
found Dwight sitting dejectedly in one of the veranda chairs, his hair
tumbled, coat torn, and necktie awry, and his face as long as his arm.
The monkey, quite as solemn, was tied to a post, and sat pensively
holding its chops in its skinny palms and eyeing its new master with
great disfavor.
"So you've conquered?" laughed Mr. Lawrence, while Faith began humbly
to beg pardon, but was quickly interrupted.
"What for?" asked Dwight brusquely. "You couldn't help it because he's
a fool, could you?"
"No, no, Dwight--not that! Only a monkey," cried Hope, delighting in
the scene. "You and Faith both wanted a funny one, you know, and
you've got it, so what's the use of fretting? I'll tell you--let's
give him to the next beggar that follows us, shall we, Faith?
"No," said the girl with sudden resolution, "I'll take care of him,
myself."
She stepped close to the troubled mite and untying the rope, gently
lifted it to her arms, softly stroking it and speaking in a low, cooing
voice. Both touch and glance proved magnetic, and soon it had curled
down in the shelter of her arms and gave no more trouble.
After Dwight had finished his interrupted repast Mr. Lawrence said
there was one more place, not far distant, that he wanted them
particularly to visit, and all somewhat reluctantly followed him into a
church that, though handsome, looked too thoroughly English to seem
interesting amid old-world quaintness.
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