He stood
beside her as she lapped her bread-and-milk or as she chewed
laboriously at her fragment of dog-biscuit.
At such times, he proved himself the mortal foe of Peter Grimm,
the Mistress's temperamental gray kitten, with whom he was
ordinarily on very comfortable terms. Peter Grimm was the one
creature on the Place whom Lady feared. On the day after her
arrival, she essayed to worry the haughty catkin. And, a second
later, the puppy was nursing a brace of deep red scratches at the
tip of her inquiring black nostrils.
Thereafter, she gave Peter Grimm a wide berth. And the cat was
wont to take advantage of this dread by making forays on Lady's
supper dish. But, ever, Lad would swoop down upon the marauder,
as Lady cowered whimperingly back on her haunches; and would
harry the indignant cat up the nearest tree; herding her there
until Lady had licked the dish clean.
Lad went further, in his fealty to the puppy. Sacrificing his own
regal dignity, he would romp with her, at times when it would
have been far more comfortable to drowse. He bore, without
murmur, her growling assaults on his food; amusedly standing
aside while she annexed his supper's choicest bits.
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