"You must be very good, or we sha'n't be able to take you up to the nursery.

Come along, old fellow, and pick your steps over the sloppy places." They got safely across the yard, gained the door, and went up the stone stair, leaving streams of muddy water on all the steps behind them.
Arrived at the top, Terry looked round for a mat, but there was nothing just at that spot except the carpet, so she took out her pocket-handkerchief and wiped Vulcan's feet with it.
"It makes no difference to his wetness," she said, "but that does not matter.

His feet will get dry by degrees." "We have made a mess on the stairs," said Turly, looking back.
"Yes, I don't know how we ever got so wet," said Terry; "but stone stairs dry up so quickly.

Come along now, Vulcan, you are not to bark a word or you may frighten your grandma!" Vulcan was quite in the spirit of the adventure, and trotted quietly along with the children into the nursery.
Then the door was shut and the merriment began.
First of all the children took each one of his fore-paws and danced with him many times round the room.

Vulcan enjoyed the dance for a time, and bore it patiently for another time, but at last he conveyed by a short significant bark that he had had enough of it.
"Is he getting cross ?" said Turly.
"No, but I'll tell you what it is," said Terry.