“I wish thou wouldst buy a dog and cat.”
“Both?” demanded David, rather surprised. “They will fight.”
“Oh, the cat is for the children,” said Countess coolly; “I don’t want one. But let the dog be the biggest thou canst get.”
“I think I’d have the dog by himself,” said David. “The children will be quite as well pleased. And if you want a big one, he is pretty sure to be good-tempered.”
So David and Rudolph went to buy a dog, and returned with an amiable shaggy monster quite as tall as the latter—white and tan, with a smile upon his lips, and a fine feathery tail, which little Helwis fell at once to stroking. This eligible member of the family received the name of Olaf, and was clearly made to understand that he must tolerate anything from the children, and nothing from a burglar.
Things were settling down, and custom already beginning to come into the little shop, when one evening, as they sat round the fire, Countess surprised David with a question—
“David, what did the priest to thee when thou wert baptised?”
David looked up in some astonishment.
“Why, he baptised me,” said he simply.
“I want to know all he did,” said Countess.