"Food would choke me," declared Marian.
"I couldn't eat either. Do you want anything, James?" asked Mrs. Davenport.
"No,—I'm not hungry now," there was a break in Mr. Davenport's voice.
"Clear off the table, Maggie. Don is dead."
"Don dead?" cried Maggie, running out, "Why what am de mattah?"
"I 'lows he got hole some of de rat pizen," said January.
At sight of Beth's intense grief, Maggie's heart melted.
"Dar, dar, honey, don't yo' cry. Yo'se pah'll get you anoder dog."
"I don't want another dog. I—want—my—Don. I want him, I'll never be happy again," and Beth cried so hard that Mr. Davenport tried to comfort her.
"Beth," he said, "I have some news that will make you happy. I knew all about it last night, but I wouldn't tell you because I wanted you to find it out for yourself. Both your dress and cake have taken prizes—first prizes at that."