"Would you mind taking my dog up there with you? thank you very much if you will please be so kind."
Before the wistful pleading of the violet eyes, and the sweet tones of the hesitating voice, the surly expression vanished from Farley's countenance, and, touching his hat, he replied cheerfully:
"Aye, miss; if he is not venomous, I will take him along."
"Thank you. Mr. Roscoe, if you will be so good as to go with me to the express car, I can get my dog."
"That is not necessary. Besides it is snowing hard, and your wraps are not very heavy. Give me the receipt, and I will bring him out."
There was some delay, but after a little while Mr. Roscoe came back leading Hero by a chain attached to his collar. The dog looked sulky and followed reluctantly, but at sight of his mistress, sprang forward, barking joyfully.
"Poor Hero! poor fellow! Here I am."
When he had been prevailed upon to jump up beside the driver, and the carriage rolled homeward, Mr. Roscoe said:
"That is a superb creature. The only pure white Newfoundland I ever saw. Where did you get him?"
"He was bought in Brooklyn several years ago, and sent to me."