“Oh, indeed, yes. They are delightful.”
A pleased expression came into Miss Patty’s face.
“I think a great deal of those dogs,” she said proudly. “They are over a hundred years old, and they have sat on either side of this fireplace ever since my brother Aaron brought them from London fifty years ago. Spofford Avenue was called after my brother Aaron.”
“A fine man he was,” said Miss Maria, speaking for the first time. “Ah, you don’t see the like of him nowadays.”
“He was a good uncle to you, Maria,” said Miss Patty, with evident emotion. “You do well to remember him.”
“I shall always remember him,” said Miss Maria solemnly. “I can see him, this minute, standing there before that fire, with his hands under his coat-tails, beaming on us.”
Miss Maria took out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes; but Miss Patty came resolutely back from the regions of sentiment to those of business.
“I shall leave the dogs where they are, if you will promise to be very careful of them,” she said. “Their names are Gog and Magog. Gog looks to the right and Magog to the left. And there’s just one thing more. You don’t object, I hope, to this house being called Patty’s Place?”
“No, indeed. We think that is one of the nicest things about it.”
“You have sense, I see,” said Miss Patty in a tone
