Mrs. Gerald paused a moment, then she said reluctantly, "Yes, Tattine, I did."

"Have they done it before, Mamma?"

"I am sorry to say they have."

"Have you seen them bring struggling rabbits dangling in their mouths right up
to the house here, Mamma?"

Mrs. Gerald merely shook her head. She felt so sorry to have to own to such a
sight.

"Why did I never know it, Mamma?"

"You have never chanced to be on the spot, dear, when it happened, and I was
in no hurry to tell you anything that I knew would make you sad."

"I think it would have been better to tell me. It's awful to find such a thing
out suddenly about dogs you've trusted, and to think how good and gentle they
look when they come and put their heads in your lap to be petted, just as
though they would not hurt a fly; but then, of course, anyone who has eyes
knows that they do lure flies, snapping at them all day long, and just for the
fun of it too, not because they need them for food, as birds do. Mamma, I
don't believe there's anything meaner than a Laverack setter. Still, Tadjie
would never have done such a thing, I know." Mrs. Gerald was silent, and
Tattine, expecting her to confirm what she had said, grew a little suspicious.
"Would Tadjie, Mamma?" with a directness that would not admit of indirectness.

"Yes, Tattine; Tadjie would. She was trained to hunt before ever she was given
to Papa, and so were her ancestors before her. That is why Doctor and Betsy,