Now suppose the engagement was broken off, he would be free to do as
he chose with the redecoration of the room. But suppose, as he
sincerely and devoutly hoped, it wasn't? Dilemma on dilemma. Added to
all this, Goliath, the miniature Belgian griffon, having probably
overeaten himself, had complicated pains inside, and the callous vet.
could or would not come round till the evening. In the meantime,
Goliath might die.

He was at this point of his reflections, when to his horror he
heard a familiar voice outside the door.

"All right, Peddle. Don't worry. I'll show myself in. Look after that
man of mine. Quite easy. Give him some beer in a bucket and leave him
to it."

Then the door burst open and Oliver, pipe in mouth and hat on one
side, came into the room.

"Hallo, Doggie! Thought I'd look you up. Hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Not at all," said Doggie. "Do sit down."

But Oliver walked about and looked at things.

"I like your water-colours. Did you collect them yourself?"

"Yes."

"I congratulate you on your taste. This is a beauty. Who is it by?"

The appreciation brought Doggie at once to his side. Oliver, the
connoisseur, was showing himself in a new and agreeable light. Doggie
took him delightedly round the pictures, expounding their merits and
their little histories. He found that Oliver, although unlearned, had
a true sense of light and colour and tone. He was just beginning to
like him, when the tactless fellow, stopping before the collection of
little dogs, spoiled everything.

"My holy aunt!" he cried--an objurgation which Doggie had abhorred
from boyhood--and he doubled with laughter in his horrid schoolboy
fashion--"My dear Doggie--is that your family? How many litters?"

"It's the finest collection of the kind in the world," replied Doggie
stiffly, "and is worth several thousand pounds."

Oliver heaved himself into a chair--that was Doggie's impression of
his method of sitting down--a Sheraton chair with delicate arms and
legs.

"Forgive me," he said, "but you're such a funny devil."--Doggie gaped.
The conception of himself as a funny devil was new.--"Pictures and
music I can understand. But what the deuce is the point of these dam
little dogs?"

But Doggie was hurt. "It would be useless to try to explain," said he.

Oliver took off his hat and sent it skimming on to the couch.

"Look here, old chap," he said, "I seem to have put my foot into it
again. I didn't mean to, really. Peg