Then one of the ladies ventured to put her hand on Nino's head, who was curled up under the rug which was tucked round both little girls' legs, with his head and ears and black nose just appearing. Nino growled, and Dorothy made a gesture as if to get a little farther away.
"Oh, what a cross little doggie!" was the remark.
"He is not cross," Dorothy said, pressing Nino closer.
"Don't you think so?" the lady said, in an offended tone. "Perhaps he has learned of his mistress to be cross."
She laughed, but Dorothy did not laugh, or even smile.
"He is a spoiled little dog," said the younger of the two ladies, reaching forward to give Nino another pat.
Another growl, followed this time by a snap.
"Horrid little beast!" was the next exclamation. "Children ought not to be allowed to take pet dogs about with them, to the annoyance of other people."
Dorothy edged away, closer and closer to Irene, who, to Dorothy's surprise, spoke out boldly.
"Nino did not growl till you touched him," she said; "no one ought to pat strange dogs."