"Oh, everybody's provoking this morning. You're horrid and mean, Don, and I don't believe I love you, after all."
He looked up at this. His gaze seemed a reproach to her, but she grew only the crosser.
"Oh, you needn't be looking that way at me. You're lazy, and you know it. If you were sorry, you'd play with me. No, I don't love you one little bit."
She walked back to the house, and then sulked until the breakfast gong sounded.
To make up for being somewhat late, Maggie had prepared an extra fine meal. Mr. and Mrs. Davenport and even Marian proved unusually talkative that morning, and they started their breakfast very happily. Beth, too, could not withstand the general good humor, and soon her spirits began to rise. She said, however:
"Do you know, that horrid old Don would not play with me this morning. He——"
At that instant, January came running up on the piazza, where they were eating breakfast.
"Missy Beth," he cried, "come quick; Don acts mighty queer. 'Pears like he's dying."
Not only Beth, but Mr. and Mrs. Davenport and Marian jumped up from the table and ran out to the barn.
They found the noble dog where Beth had left him. He was, in truth, in the very throes of death.