“I think if anything were to happen to the dog my daughter Wynnette would almost break her heart,” she said.
“Bless ’ee, my lady, nothing shall happen the brute but good treatment. He’s a dog as any one might grow fond on; and as for we, why, we fairly dotes on him, my lady. And so do him on we. Look, my lady! Hi! Joshway!”
The dog came bounding from some distant spot and jumped upon the groom with every demonstration of joy until he saw his mistress, when the old love and loyalty immediately asserted itself, and he sprang from the groom to the lady.
Elfrida Force caressed him to his heart’s content, and then to divert his attention she emptied a small basket of cold meat that she had brought for the purpose, and while he was busy with a well-covered beef bone she patted his head and slipped away.
On the morning of the same day the earl sent off a telegram to Mr. Force, at the Hotel d’Angleterre, St. Petersburg, merely saying: “We leave to-morrow for Baden-Baden. Write to us at the Hotel d’Amerique.”
Late in the evening he received the following answer:
“We shall join you at the Hotel d’Amerique.”
The earl handed the telegram to his sister, saying:
“I told you the bridegroom would be impatient. The bridal honeymoon was sweet, no doubt. But what was that to be compared to the honeymoon of the silver wedding, eh, Elf?”
She was about to retort by asking him what he could know about it; but remembering in time the pathos of her brother’s life, and not quite knowing what else to say, she remarked that the twenty-fifth anniversary of her wedding was yet three years off. And then she kissed her brother and bade him good-night.