ingly. "You know Rose and I had
not spoken to her about it; we were waiting for a good opportunity to
ask her, when you were so kind as to give us the chance of having the
other little dog. Mother seldom refuses us anything which she can let us
have, still Rose was not sure that mother would give her consent. You
see she is troubled about the stair-carpets and the drawing-room rugs,
and the garden-beds, and we were afraid she would think we should have
the dog with us everywhere."

"Then it rested with yourself, I should say, to show her that you could
keep a dog in his proper place."

"But I doubt if I could," said May candidly, shaking her head, with the
brown hair which had till recently hung loose on her shoulders, now
combed smoothly back, and twisted into as "grown-up" a twist as she
could accomplish the feat; while to keep the tucked-up hair in company,
her skirt was let down to the regulation length for young ladies.
"Indeed, I am almost certain I could not refuse anything to a dear
little dog coming to me and sitting up and begging for what he wanted.
What is more, if I could Dora couldn't." She could have bitten out her
tongue the next instant. What was she doing always speaking of Dora?
What would he think? That she was wilfully dragging her sister's name
into the conversation? And what had tempted her to say that Dora could
not refuse anything to a dog, when she had refused her heart in exchange
for his to the man walking beside May?

He made no remark. If his mouth twitched a little in reproach or
sarcasm, she could not see it under his red moustache; besides, she
dared not look at him.

"I wonder," continued Miss Malapropos, "how I could let you know what
mother thought." She never once suggested his bringing the dog for
inspection, as he had brought the other, or calling for her answer.

"You might drop me a note," he said, stopping to give her back her
books, "and I hope for your sake that it may be favourable, for this is
a nice little dog, and I think you would like him."

May went home more nearly on the wings of the wind than she had done
since Rose's departure, and presented her petition. Mrs. Millar could
not find it in her heart to refuse it, though the stair-carpet, the
drawing-room rugs, and the garden-beds were all to be sacrificed.

"Poor little May! she misses Rose, though Dora and May have become great
friends of late. Dora is very good, and puts herself on an equality with
May, as A