going to speak to him as soon as he turned his face.

"You see I have been giving him lessons," she said, as he brought back
the seat he had chosen.

Isaacs looked at the queer small beast sitting up against the boards
under the window, his brush tail curled round him, and his head turned
inquiringly on one side.

"He seems to be learning manners, at all events," said my friend.

"Yes; I think I may say now, with safety, that his bark is worse than
his bite."

"I am sure you could not have said so the last time I came. Do you
remember what fearful havoc he made among my nether garments? And yet he
is my god-child, so to speak, for I gave him into your care, and named
him into the bargain."

"Don't suppose I am ungrateful for the gift," answered Miss Westonhaugh.
"Snap! Snap! here! come here, darling, to your mistress, and be petted!"
In spite of this eloquent appeal Snap, the baby jackal, only growled
pleasantly and whisked his brush right and left. "You see," she went on,
"your sponsorship has had no very good results. He will not obey any
more than you yourself." Her glance, turning towards Isaacs, did not
reach him, and, in fact, she could not have seen anything beyond the
side of his chair. Isaacs, on the contrary, seemed to be counting her
eyelashes, and taking a mental photograph of her brows.

"Snap!" said he. The jackal instantly rose and trotted to him, fawning