on Friday night, but were not to be made
public until Saturday morning. Beth was up bright and early,
therefore, on Saturday. She was all impatience to be through breakfast
that she might learn her fate, but she found that she might as well
possess her soul in patience, as Maggie proved provoking, and would not
hurry in the least.

To pass away the time, Beth hunted up Don. At sight of her, he barked
and wagged his tail. She threw her arms about his neck. "Yes, Don, I
know you're glad to see me, and I love you with all my heart. Come on
and we'll have a play."

But, for some unaccountable reason, he did not seem ready for a frolic.
As soon as she let go of him, he walked back by the stable and lay down.

"Come on, Don," she called coaxingly.

He did not budge. She stamped her foot impatiently.

"Oh, everybody's provoking this morning. You're horrid and mean, Don,
and I don't believe I love you, after all."

He looked up at this. His gaze seemed a reproach to her, but she grew
only the crosser.

"Oh, you needn't be looking that way at me. You're lazy, and you know
it. If you were sorry, you'd play with me. No, I don't love you one
little bit."

She walked back to the house, and then sulked until the breakfast gong
sounded.

To make up for being somewhat late, Maggie had prepared an extra fine
meal. Mr. and Mrs. Davenport and even Marian proved unusually
talkative that morning, and they started their breakfast very happily.
Beth, too, could not withstand the general good humor, and soon her
spirits began to rise. She said, however:

"Do you know, that horrid old Don would not play with me this morning.
He----"

At that instant, January came running up on the piazza, where they were
eating breakfast.

"Missy Beth," he cried, "come quick; Don acts mighty queer. 'Pears
like he's dying."

Not only Beth, but Mr. and Mrs. Davenport and Marian jumped up from the
table and ran out to the barn.

They found the noble dog where Beth had left him. He was, in truth, in
the very throes of death.

Beth fell on her knees beside him, and lifted his head upon her lap.
Tears were streaming from her eyes so that she could hardly see him.

"Don," she cried, "you know I didn't mean it. You know I love you."

His fast glazing eye brightened momentarily at the sound of her voice.
If he could have spoken, he would have said:

"Little mistress, I never doubted your love. I wasn't lazy. You know
now why I