“You are not very intimate with Miss Murdstone, are you?” said Dora. “My pet.”

(The two last words were to the dog. Oh, if they had only been to me!)

“No,” I replied. “Not at all so.”

“She is a tiresome creature,” said Dora, pouting. “I can’t think what papa can have been about, when he chose such a vexatious thing to be my companion. Who wants a protector? I am sure I don’t want a protector. Jip can protect me a great deal better than Miss Murdstone⁠—can’t you, Jip, dear?”

He only winked lazily, when she kissed his ball of a head.