“And the same one she nursed through an illness?” asked Dr. Tom after a moment, with the mere amount of interest apparently of one asking for a topographical detail, so that he may get his bearings.
“Yes. You’d know, wouldn’t you, that she’d have to, if she thought he wasn’t getting the right care and didn’t see any other way of providing it.”
“Well, Skip,” Dr. Tom returned his attention to the dog, “you’re a fine little fellow. Yes, sir.” He held out a large pink hand and received in it immediately a wee gentlemanly hand of fur and horn, rather smaller than any of his fingers. “Good dog,” he said, and regarded their friendship as sealed. But next minute, because Estelle had whispered to him, “Make believe to strike me,” he lifted his fist menacingly against her, and on the instant, with the courage of a David, there dashed against him a little wild white flurry, not to bite–the skin of man is sacred–but by a show of pearly teeth and the growlings of a lion to frighten the giant off.
“Good dog!” cheered Tom and leaned back laughing, “Well done!”
Because it was very late when Dr. Bewick left the ladies to return to his hotel they immediately repaired to their respective rooms; but before Estelle had got to bed, Aurora, half undressed, came strolling into her maidenly bower of temperate green and white.
A vague depression of spirits had overtaken Aurora, reaction, perhaps, from the excitements of the day, and she sought her friend with the instinct to make herself feel better by talking it off.
327She dropped on a chair, and in silence continued to braid her hair for the night.
“Isn’t he the nicest fellow!” began Estelle, setting the keynote for joyous confidences.