all
that. It stands to reason that anyone staying at an hotel like this and
bringing a dog with them--always an expensive thing to do--and valuing
it enough to advertise its loss, would behave properly when the time
came."

"I don't know," Mr. Bathurst replied. "Does anything stand to reason?
The ordinary dog-thief, holding up an animal to ransom, might be
deterred from returning it if no mention of money was made. You remember
we decided on that."

"Oh, no, I don't think so. You merely had your way again, that was all.
I was always against offering a reward. And the word 'handsome' too. In
any case I never agreed to that. You put that in later. Another thing,"
Mrs. Bathurst continued, "I knew it in some curious way--in my bones, as
they say--that the fineness of Cherub's nature, its innocence, its
radiant friendliness, would overcome any sordidness in the person who
found him, poor darling, all lost and unhappy. No one who has been much
with that simple sweet character could fail to be the better for it."

Mr. Bathurst coughed.

"That is so?" his wife persisted.

"Well," said Mr. Bathurst, after helping himself to another egg, "let us
hope so, at any rate."

"It's gone beyond mere hope," said his wife triumphantly. "Listen to
this;" and she read out the sentence from the second advertisement, "'No
reward required.' There," she added, "isn't that proof? I'll go round to
Cheviot Road directly after breakfast and say how grateful we are, and
bring the darling back."

III.

Meanwhile at "The Limes" Mr. Hartley Friend was pacing the room with
impatient steps.

"I do wish you would try to be less impulsive," he was saying to his
wife. "Anything in the nature of business you would be so much wiser to
leave to me."

"What is it now?" Mrs. Friend asked with perfect placidity.

"This dog," said her husband, "that fastened itself on you in this
deplorable way--whatever possessed you to rush into print about it?"

"Of course I rushed, as you say. Think of the feelings of the poor
woman who has lost her pet. It was the only kind thing to do."

"'Poor woman' indeed! I assure you she's nothing of the sort. One would
think you were a millionaire to be ladling out benefactions like this.
'No reward required.' Fancy not even asking for the price of the
advertisement to be refunded!"

"But that would have been so squalid."

"'Squalid!' I've no patience with you. Justice isn't squalor. It's--it's
justice. As for your