u are thirsty."

We thought it a very good idea, and after going about half a mile down
the lane we came upon the farmhouse just as he had said. A little girl
was feeding some chickens just in front, and when we asked her if we
could have a cup of milk, she said she would run in and see. While we
were waiting we heard a voice, a laughing merry voice it sounded,
calling out in a sort of orchard close by--

"Down, Rollo, down--oh, you naughty old dog," it said.

Just then the little girl came out to ask Eliza if she'd mind coming in
to fetch the milk, as she couldn't carry both the jug and the cups.
Eliza went in, and I suppose she stayed chatting to the farmer's wife,
who, she told us afterwards, was busy churning, for she was certainly
five minutes gone. While she was away, the gate into the orchard opened
and a girl--not a little girl, but a grown-up young lady--came running
out, followed by a beautiful big dog. He was really a splendid fellow,
and as she ran, he ran, half jumping against her--I think she had
something in her hand he wanted to get--and again we heard the laughing
voice call out--

"Down, Rollo--you naughty old fellow. You'll knock me over if you don't
take care, you great, clumsy darling."

They rushed across the road--the girl and the dog--and down a little
lane just opposite. They were gone like a flash, but we did, at least
_I_ did see them, the dog especially, quite clearly. Afterwards I tried
to fancy I hadn't, but that was not true. I did see the dog perfectly.

I turned to Persis.

"Did you ever see such a beauty?" I said. But just then Eliza came out
with the milk, and we didn't say any more about the dog. We both kept
thinking about it all the way home, I know, but somehow we didn't care
to talk about it before Eliza. The wish for a dog of our own had become
such a very deep-down thought in our hearts that we could not talk about
it easily or lightly--not even to each other always.

Papa came back from London the next day, but mamma was disappointed to
hear that he was obliged to return there again the end of the week, this
time to stay two nights. We did not drive with him again to the station
because it was a wet day, otherwise we should have wished it doubly, in
the chance of having another sight of the beautiful dog.

It was the very day after papa had gone this second time that a strange
thing happened. Persis and I were out in the garden rather late in the
evening before going