Before the
McIntyres could realise the situation, their maid, Mary, darted into the
sitting-room with terror in her round freckled face:
"If you please, miss," she screamed, "your tiger has arrove."
"Good heavens!" cried Robert, rushing to the door with his half-filled
teacup in his hand. "This is too much. Here is an iron cage on a
trolly with a great ramping tiger, and the whole village with their
mouths open."
"Mad as a hatter!" shrieked old Mr. McIntyre. "I could see it in his
eye. He spent enough on this beast to start me in business. Whoever
heard of such a thing? Tell the driver to take it to the
police-station."
"Nothing of the sort, papa," said Laura, rising with dignity and
wrapping a shawl about her shoulders. Her eyes were shining, her cheeks
flushed, and she carried herself like a triumphant queen.
Robert, with his teacup in his hand, allowed his attention to be
diverted from their strange visitor while he gazed at his beautiful
sister.
"Mr. Raffles Haw has done this out of kindness to me," she said,
sweeping towards the door. "I look upon it as a great attention on his
part. I shall certainly go out and look at it."
"If you please, sir," said the carman, reappearing at the door, "it's
all as we can do to 'old in the 'osses.
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