Along that road, coming straight towards him, was a black dog. The poor creature seemed exhausted, and ran unsteadily, with drooping tail and lowered head, and bluish foam-flecked tongue hanging from the open mouth; yet it ran fast. A crowd of hallooing men rushed in its rear, some little way behind.
[CHAPTER III.]
THE NEIGHBOURS.
"WELL, Sue, you've made things look uncommon comfortable, and that I must say!" Dunn observed cheerfully, after supper. "You and Nannie must have worked uncommon hard too."
"There's one comfort in working hard for you: that you don't pass it all over as if it was nothing," said Susan.
"Nice sort of chap I should be, if I did! Why, it's as clean!—And the dishes as shiny!—It's almost like the old home kitchen, Sue!" Richard Dunn could not resist one sigh. "And I'm sure you've made the parlour look beautiful. Curtains up, and all!"
"Only there's no garden, father," Susie said plaintively.
"No more there is, Susie. But I'll make some good big window-boxes, as soon as ever I can get time, and we'll fill them quite full. And a lot of plants can stand inside the window of the parlour too."
"Mayn't we have some mignonette?" asked Susie.
"To be sure we will. You and Nannie shall have a box of it, all to yourselves, up at your bedroom window. Won't that be nice? Why, Nannie,—haven't you done enough yet to-day?" As she came in, with her neat little brown hat on.