e wry face--"and you'd be surprised to see how elegant he'll
look."

A laugh rang out from one end of the room. It came from a fine-looking
old lady who stood near the window surrounded, it would seem by admiring
satellites, and at the little musical sound Mrs. Graham Woods Bartlett's
face cleared magically, for the stately old lady was a very important
personage to all present, envied usually too, and if this little
incident seemed to amuse her then the matter was beautifully altered. So
Mrs. Graham Woods Bartlett found her voice. "Go out into the grounds and
see the gardener. If he can find a place for the animal, let him keep
it."

The children felt themselves dismissed. On the way out Suzanna kept her
gaze quite away from the table with its alluring load of dainties. But
Maizie paused an infinitesimal fraction of a second and let her eyes
stray over the fascinating cakes, the glasses of pink ices, and the
Maraschino cherries and nuts and white candies. But it was Peter who
neither looked aside nor paused, but as he went by the table he
addressed the ceiling.

"My dog's very fond of cakes," he said. "But mother says dogs can do
without cakes, especially stray dogs."

One of the pretty girls laughed merrily, and sweeping from a silver
plate a handful of cakes she thrust them into Peter's hands. "Thank
you," he said simply. And then the children left with the dog gamboling
in expectancy behind his small master. He knew well the cakes were for
him.

Out in the grounds they met Graham. He had been to the stables to look
at his pony, a new gift from his father. He paused astonished at sight
of the children.

"Oh, Graham," Suzanna cried at sight of him, "your mother said we should
see the gardener about this dog. She thought he'd like to have him."

Graham, though startled, asked no questions.

"I guess it's David mother means," he said. "Wait here and I'll see if
he's in the back garden."

After Graham had gone Peter began to conjecture. "If David won't take
Jerry," he said, "what'll we do?"

"You'll have to take him out and lose him then," said Maizie calmly.

Peter turned a considering eye upon her. He couldn't understand her.
Quite as a matter of course she suggested his taking the dog out on some
prairie and turning it loose, to know hunger, and perhaps abuse. And
yet, he had seen this same tender-hearted little Maizie crying because a
spider had been swept down from the porch. No, in his boyish soul he