contented herself with admiring the dog, which was worthy of all the
praise she could give him. Congo was tied up, and Mike and Mrs. Drane and
Cicely, and finally La Fleur, came to look at him and to speak well of
him. When all had gone away but the colored man and the cook, the latter
asked why Miss Bannister had been mentioned in connection with this dog.

"'Cause he was her dog," said Mike. "She got him when he was a little
puppy no bigger nor a cat, an' you'd a thought, to see her carry him
about an' put him in a little bed an' kiver him up o' night an' talk to
him like a human bein', that she loved him as much as if he'd been a
little baby brother; an' she's thought all the world of him, straight
'long until now, an' she's gone an' give him to Mr. Hav'ley."

La Fleur reflected for a moment.

"Are you sure, Mike," she asked, "that they are not engaged?"

"I'm dead sartain sure of it," he said. "His sister told me so with her
own lips. Givin' dogs don't mean nothin', Mrs. Flower. If people married
all the people they give dogs to, there'd be an awful mix in this world.
Bless my soul, I'd have about eight wives my own self."

La Fleur smiled at Mike's philosophy, and applied his information to the
comfort of her mind.

"If his sister says they are not engaged," she thought, "it's like they
are not, but it looks to me as if it were time to take the Bannister pot
off the fire."

La Fleur now retired to a seat under a tree near the kitchen door, and
applied her intellect to the consideration of the dinner, and the future
of the Drane family and herself. The present state of affairs suited her
admirably. She could desire no change in it, except that Mr. Haverley
should marry Miss Cicely in order to give security to the situation. For
herself, this was the place above all others at which she would like to
live, and a mistress such as Miss Cicely, who knew little of domestic
affairs, but appreciated everything that was well done, was the mistress
she would like to serve. She would be sorry to leave the good doctor, for
whom, as a man of intellect, she had an earnest sympathy, but he did not
live in the country, and the Dranes were nearer and dearer to her than he
was. He should not be deserted nor neglected. If she came to spend the
rest of her life on this fine old estate, she would engage for him a good
young cook, who would be carefully instructed by her in regard to the
peculiarities of his diet, and who should