Miller,
myself."
She sat down on the grass beside the road to rearrange the loosened
bandage. "Puppies will be puppies, I suppose. Daddy says you must always
take the intention into consideration--and I don't suppose you
_intended_ to be bad. It's dreadfully easy to be bad, without
intending to. I certainly hope it won't be washing-day at the next
place. The idea of having Thursday for a wash-day, anyhow! Dear me,
where is the next place?"
The dog crawled into her lap, trying to lick her face. He was not
in the least anxious to decide upon any "next place." Sitting there in
Patricia's lap, in the shade of a wide-spreading maple, seemed a very
agreeable method of passing the time.
"I think," Patricia said, stroking the little black head, "we'll try
Miss Jane. You don't know Miss Jane. She's awfully nice. She and her
sister haven't any dog but they've got a cat; you wouldn't mind
that--she's a very intelligent cat; Miss Jane says so."
To reach Miss Jane's it was necessary to leave the highroad for a
narrow, winding lane. A quarter of a mile further on they came to the
little white house. Patricia thought it very lonely looking, but perhaps
her companion might think otherwise.
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