Elizabeth Hoyt Quote

A small brownish-gray terrier had been sitting on the brick, but he hopped to his feet as soon as he saw Bridget and gave one sharp emphatic bark.Now hush, she said to him- not that he seemed to care. She set the tin plate down and uncovered it, revealing the scraps that Mrs. Bram had saved for her.The terrier immediately began gobbling the food as if he was starving which, sadly, he might be.You'll choke, Bridget said sternly. The terrier didn't listen. He never did, no matter how businesslike she made her voice. Grown men- footmen- might jump to obey her, but this scrawny waif defied her.Bridget bit her lip. If she was forced to leave Hermes House, who would feed the terrier? Mrs. Bram might- if she remembered to do so- but the cook was a busy woman with other matters on her mind.The dog finished his meal and licked the plate so enthusiastically that he overturned it with a clatter.Bridget tutted and bent to pick it up.The dog thrust his short snout under her hand as she did so and she found herself stroking his head. His fur was wiry rather than silky, almost greasy, but the dog had liquid brown eyes and seemed to smile as his mouth hung open, tongue lolling out. He was very, very sweet. She'd never been allowed a pet dog as a child. Her foster father was a shepherd and had considered dogs farm animals. A pet dog wasn't even to be thought of, especially for her, the .Housekeepers, and indeed servants of any kind, weren't allowed pets. Sometimes a cat might be kept to catch mice in the kitchens, but it was a working animal. Dogs were dirty things and required food and space that, technically, she didn't own.Bridget stood and frowned down at the dog. Shoo now.The dog sat and slowly wagged his tail, sweeping the bricks. One of his triangular ears stood up while the other lay down.