"Oh no," said Baby, "him would rather be alone, kite alone, 'cept Minet. Fritz is very good to him, but Fritz will be at school. Fritz is never at home now 'cept Thursdays."
"No," said Lisa; "but Herr Fritz is very happy at school, and when Herr Baby is big he will go too."
"Yes," said Baby; but he didn't seem to think much what he was saying. Lisa thought he was dull about Fritz being at school--I forgot to tell you that Fritz went every day now to a very nice school in the town, where there were a few boys about his own age--but Lisa was mistaken.
That afternoon, any one passing the low hedge which at one side was all that divided the Villa garden from the road, would have seen a pretty little picture. There was Baby, seated on the grass, one arm fondly clasping Minet's neck, while with the other he firmly held the famous money-box. He was dressed in his garden blouse only, but for some reason he had his best hat on. And he kept looking about him, first towards the house and then towards the garden gate, in a funny considering sort of way.
At last he seemed to have made up his mind.
"Minet," he said to the cat, "him thinks we'll go now. 'Amember, Minet, you've _p'omised_ to go wif him. If you get werry tired, Minet, him'll try to carry you. If you could carry the money-box, and him could carry you, then it would be _kite_ easy. What a pity you haven't got two more paws, that would do for hands, Minet!"
"Yes, poor Minet. Nebber mind, dear; but we must be going." And closely followed by the cat, who had no idea, poor thing, of what was before her, Baby made his way down the path to the garden gate. It was open, at least not latched. Baby easily pushed it wide enough for his little self to go through, and stood, with Minet and the money-box, triumphant on the highroad.
"It were the best way, thit way," he said to himself. For there was another gate to the Villa, leading out to the upper road. But this gate was guarded by a lodge, and the "concierge," as they called the lodge-keeper, came out to open it for every one who went in and out. And "p'raps," thought Baby, "the concierge mightn't have let him through, 'cos, of course, her didn't know why him was going out alone with Minet."