He felt that he had done very well by a dog that would have torn him to pieces if encouraged by the merest whisper of the words "sic 'im!"
Alix returned late on Friday afternoon. He had a box of roses, ordered from the city for him by Miss Flora Grady, awaiting her, and with them a tender little note of sympathy.
She sat for a long time with Mrs. Strong. Her dark eyes softened and filled with tears as David's mother gently stroked her hair and sought by words to convince her that David would understand.
"It wasn't your fault, Alix darling," she protested. "David won't mind,—not in the least. Sergeant didn't really mean anything to him. He was yours more than he was David's. Don't you worry about David's feelings, dear. He—"
"You don't understand, Aunt Nancy,—you don't understand at all," Alix repeated over and over again in her distress.
"You're just worrying yourself sick over it," said the older woman. "Why, you look all tuckered out, child,—I was shocked when you first came in. Now, don't be foolish, dear. I tell you it will be all right with David. I wrote him all about it, and—what's that you are saying?"
"You don't suppose he will think I—think I did it, Aunt Nancy?" Alix whispered bleakly.
"Think you—for the land's sake, Alix, what on earth are you saying? Are you stark, staring crazy? You come right upstairs and get into bed this minute. My land, I—I believe you're going to be sick. You've got the queerest look in your eyes. Come on, now, deary, and—"
"I am sick,—just sick with unhappiness, Aunt Nancy," sobbed the girl. "You don't know,—you don't understand. Oh, he couldn't believe I would do such a thing as THAT! He couldn't think me so cruel, and wicked and—and spiteful."
"Now, listen to me," said Mrs. Strong sternly. "What is the meaning of all this? What has happened between you and David that makes you talk like this? Tell me,—tell me this minute, Alix Crown."