roaches. You have forgotten to
order coffee and rolls for your wife."

"Great Scott! So I have! It's nine o'clock." He ordered the coffee and
rolls to be sent in at once. "I hope she hasn't starved to death."

"My dear Roxbury," she said sternly, "I must take you under my wing. You
have much to accomplish in the next twenty-four hours, not the least of
your duties being the subjugation of Tootles and Raggles. Tootles is
fifteen months old, it may interest you to know. We can't afford to have
Tootles scream with terror every time she sees you, and it would be most
unfortunate if Raggles should growl and snap at you as he does at all
suspicious strangers. Once in a while he bites too. Do you like babies?"

"Yes, I--I think I do," he said doubtingly. "I daresay I could cultivate
a taste for 'em. But, I say," with eager enthusiasm, "I love dogs!"

"It may be distinctly in your favour that Raggles loathes the real
Roxbury. He growls every time that Roxy kisses Edith."

"Has he ever bitten Roxy for it?"

"No," dubiously, "but Roxy has had to kick him on several occasions."

"How very tiresome,--to kick and kiss at the same time."

"Raggles is very jealous, you understand."

"That's more than I can say for dear old Roxy. But I'll try to
anticipate Raggles by compelling Edith to keep her distance," he said,
scowling darkly. "Has it not occurred to you that Tootles will be
pretty--er--much of a nuisance when it comes to mountain climbing?" He
felt his way carefully in saying this.

"Oh, dear me, Roxbury, would you have left the poor little darling at
home--in all that dreadful heat?"

"I'm sure I couldn't have been blamed for leaving her at home," he
protested. "She didn't exist until half an hour ago. Heavens! how they
do spring up!"

The remainder of Brock's day was spent in getting acquainted with his
family--or, rather, his _menage_. There were habits and foibles, demands
and restrictions, that he had to adapt himself to with unvarying
benignity. He made a friend of Raggles without half trying; dogs always
took to him, he admitted modestly. Tootles was less vulnerable. She
howled consistently at each of his first half-dozen advances; his
courage began to wane with shocking rapidity; his next half-hearted
advances were in reality inglorious retreats. Spurred on by the
sustaining Constance, he stood by his guns and at last was gratified to
see faint signs of surrender. By midday he had conquered. Tootles
permitte