Just then a young lady who had been brought by some friends living close by joined the group: 'Why,' she said at once, 'that's the little steamer dog. How did he come here?'
'He is not a little steamer dog,' said Miss Millikin in her most dignified manner; 'he is my dog.'
'Oh, I didn't know,' said the first speaker; 'but—but I'm sure I've seen him on the steamer several times lately.'
'I never use the steamers unless I'm absolutely obliged—I disapprove of them: it must have been some other dog.'
The young lady was positive she had made no mistake. 'You so seldom see a dog with just those markings,' she said, 'and I don't think anybody was with him; he came on board at Amblemere and went all round the lake with us.'
'At Amblemere!' cried Daisy, 'that's where we live; and, Aunt Sophy, you know Don has been away all day lots of times lately.'
'What did this dog do on the steamer?' asked Miss Millikin faintly.
'Oh, he was so sweet! he went round to everybody, and sat up so prettily till they gave him biscuits and things—he was everybody's pet; we were all jealous of one another for the honour of feeding him. The second time we brought buns on purpose. But we quite thought he belonged to the steamer.'
Young Mr. Netherby laughed. 'So that is how he took the air! I thought I wasn't far wrong,' he said.
'Put him back in the cart, Daisy,' said Miss Millikin severely; 'I can't bear to look at him.'