"GWETHYN TORE OFF THE SILK HANDKERCHIEFS. SHE SAW AT ONCE WHAT HAD HAPPENED"
At four o'clock on the following afternoon, just when the girls were coming from their classes, there was a bustle at the side door. A porter with a hand-cart from the railway station was delivering a large hamper. Mrs. Franklin chanced to be passing at the moment, and stopped to make inquiries.
"A hamper? For whom? Miss G. Marsden! And labelled 'Live Stock, with Care'! What does this mean?"
Gwethyn, coming out of the Fifth Form room, caught sight of the hand-cart, and with a cry of ecstasy made a rush for the hamper.
"It's Tony! My darling Tony! Oh, my pretty boy! where are you?"
Pulling her penknife from her pocket, she cut the cords in a trice, and opening the lid, clutched her whimpering pet in her arms. A crowd of girls collected to see what was happening. Mrs. Franklin thought it high time to interfere.
"Gwethyn Marsden, whose dog is this?" she asked sharply.
"He's mine! We left him at a cottage when we shut up our house, but he fretted, so I told Mrs. Carter to send him here. He wanted his missis."
"You sent for this dog on your own authority? And without asking my permission?"