"He is too polished a gentleman to punish you so severely. Come and let me show you his gift."
He led the way to the gallery at the rear of the house, and here they found Mr. Hargrove and Mrs. Lindsay admiring a young Newfoundland dog, which was chained to the balusters.
"Look, Regina! it is a waddling snow-bank! So round, so soft and white! Did he come from Nova Zembla, or Hammerfest, or directly from 'Greenland's icy mountains'?"
"Mr. Palma looked all over New York and Brooklyn before he found a pure white dog to suit him. It seems he knew Regina's fondness for snowy pets, and this is the only Newfoundland I have ever seen who had not even a dark hair. Mr. Palma put this handsome collar and chain upon him, and asked me to bring him to Regina. He will be very large when grown; now he is only a few months old."
Regina softly patted the woolly head, and her eyes glistened with delight.
"How did Mr. Palma guess that I wanted a dog?"
"He requested me to suggest something that would please you, and I told him that all at the parsonage were grieving over the death of poor old Biörn. He immediately decided to send you a dog, and this is a noble sagacious creature."
"What is his name?"
"That is left entirely to your taste; but I hope you will not go all the way to Greece to find a title, as you did for your classic gander."
"Then I will call him whatever Mr. Hargrove likes best."