che to have his leg
examined. Harold said that his was self-taught surgery, but was
assured that the dog would bear it better from him than any one, and
could not but consent.

I noticed, however, that when he had to touch the great black
Newfoundland dog, a strong shudder ran through his whole frame, and he
had to put a strong force on himself, though he spoke to it kindly, and
it wagged its tail, and showed all the grateful, wistful affection of
its kind, as he attended to it with a tender skill in which his former
distaste was lost; and the party drove away entreating him to come and
renew the treatment on the Monday, and asking us all to luncheon, but
not receiving a distinct answer in Eustace's absence, for he was very
tenacious of his rights as master of the house.

I was quite touched with the dog's parting caress to his preserver. "So
you have conquered the birds with iron quills!" I cried, triumphantly.

"Who were they?" asked Harold, astonished.

"Surely you know them? I never thought of introducing you."

"You don't mean that they were those women?"

"Of course they were. I thought you knew you were performing an act of
heroic forgiveness."

Harold's unfailing politeness towards me hindered him from saying
"heroic fiddlesticks," but he could not suppress a "Faugh!" which meant
as much, and that mortified me considerably.

"Come now, Harry," I said, "you don't mean that you would not have done
it if you had known?"

"I should not have let the poor beast drown because his mistresses were
spiteful hags." And there was a look on his face that made me cry out
in pain, "Don't, Harry!"

"Don't what?"

"Don't be unforgiving. Say you forgive them."

"I can't. I could as soon pardon Smith."

"But you ought to pardon both. It would be generous. It would be
Christian."

I was sorry I had said that, for he looked contemptuously and said, "So
they teach you. I call it weakness."

"Oh, Harry! dear Harry, no! The highest strength!"

"I don't understand that kind of talk," he said. "You don't know what
that Smith is to my poor mother!"

"We won't talk of him; but, indeed, the Misses Stympson are grateful to
you, and are sorry. Won't you go to them on Monday?"

"No! I don't like scandal-mongers."

"But you have quite conquered them."

"What do you mean? If we are the brutes they tell those who would have
been our friends, we are not less so because I pulled a dog out of the
river."

T