The little woman referred to met them at the door. She had a warm embrace for the doctor, and a pat on the head for Pep, but she did not even notice the blue ribbon, which showed how disturbed they were.
“It’s come at last, Betty,” said the doctor briefly as he removed his overcoat. He handed her the hateful telegram and stood watching as she read it.
Pep watched both his mistress and master narrowly and his dog heart was troubled. For he noticed that his mistress shivered as she took the telegram. The little cry that escaped her as she read it, made him whimper and go to her, standing on his hind legs and putting his paws on her knees.
She reached down and stroked his glossy head and a tear fell on his upturned muzzle.
“I wouldn’t have you miss it for the world, John,” she finally managed to say. “It’s a man’s part and you are every inch a man, but it has come so suddenly.”
“You are a brave woman, Betty,” the doctor returned chokingly. “I thank you for making it so easy for me. It is just as hard for me to go as it is for you to have me. There is little danger to a surgeon. I will come back all right.
“Look at Pep, Betty. He wants you to see his blue ribbon. He is a blue ribbon dog now. He’ll take care of you while I am gone. Won’t you, old sport?”
The mistress admired the trophy as much as Pep could have wished, but somehow it did not satisfy him. He knew instinctively the house was filled with tragedy and what was a blue ribbon more or less when such things were happening.
For the next two hours every one hurried frantically to and fro; such confusion Pep had never seen in the well-ordered house. The mistress would suffer no hands but her own to finally pack the doctor’s suit case.
Others might hand things to her, but her hands must tuck them away for him.