Chapter 15.4 - Shirley

"'Gentlemen,' was uttered in Miss Kieldar's silvery but vibrating tones, "'spare my locks, if you please. Calm yourselves. Come down. Look at Tata. He won't harm a cat.' She was caressing the said Tata. He lay crouched at her feet, his forepaws stretched out, his tail still in threatening agitation, his nostril snorting, his bulldog eyes conscious of a dull fire. He was an honest, phlegmatic, stupid, but stubborn canine character. He loved his mistress, and John, the man who fed him, but was mostly indifferent to the rest of the world. Quiet enough he was, unless struck or threatened with a stick, and that put a demon into him at once. "'Mr. Malone, how do you do?' continued Shirley, lifting up her mirthlit face to the gallery. "'That is not the way to the oak parlour. That is Mrs. Pryor's apartment. Request your friend, Mr. Dunn, to evacuate. I shall have the greatest pleasure in receiving him in a lower room.' "'Ha, ha!' cried Malone, in hollow laughter, quitting the door and leaning over the massive balustrade. "'Really? That animal alarm, Don? He's a little timid!' he proceeded, stiffening himself and walking trimly to the stairhead. "'I thought it better to follow in order to reassure him.' "'It appears you did. Well, come down, if you please. John,' turning to her manservant, "'go upstairs and liberate Mr. Dunn. Take care, Mr. Malone. The stairs are slippery.' In truth they were, being of polished oak. The caution came a little late for Malone. He had slipped already in his stately descent, and was only saved from falling by a clutch at the banisters, which made the whole structure creak again. Tarter seemed to think the visitor's descent effected with unwarranted éclat, and accordingly he growled once more. Malone, however, was no coward. The spring of the dog had taken him by surprise, but he passed him now in suppressed fury rather than fear. If a look could have strangled Tarter, he would have breathed no more.