"He is my brother's dog. But my brother went away, and the poor dog grieved for him all the time, except with me. I could not leave him to fret, without either of us, so he came abroad, too."
"Across the ocean, señorita?"
"Across the ocean. From America."
The two young girls considered one another in a pause full of cordial sympathy. Different in race, station and experience, the bond of maidenhood drew them to each other with delicate lines of mutual comprehension and accord.
"It is the dog's name which is on the great silver-and-leather collar, or the name of the señorita?"
Flavia's small fair hand guided the plump brown one tracing the legend upon the massive band.
"'Federigo el Grande, que pertenece á Corwin Basil Rose, Long Island,'" she translated.
"Don Corwin—that does not say itself easily!"
"We called him Corrie."