Captain Middleton was rather appealing just then, so earnest and big and boyish. His face was broad though lean, the features rather blunt,
the eyes set wide apart; clear, trustworthy, light-blue eyes. He looked just what he was—a healthy, happy, prosperous young Englishman without a real care in the world. After all, Jan reflected, there was plenty of room at Wren's End, and it was good for the children to grow up with animals.
"I had thought of an Airedale," she said thoughtfully, "but——"
"They're good dogs, but quarrelsome—fight all the other dogs round about. Now William isn't a fighter unless he's unbearably provoked, then, of course, he fights to kill."
"Oh dear!" sighed Jan, "that's an awful prospect. Think of the trouble with one's neighbours——"
"But I assure you, it doesn't happen once in a blue moon. I've never known him fight yet."
"I'll tell you what, Captain Middleton; let me keep him for the present, till you know where you're going to be stationed, and then, if you find you can have him, he's there for you to take. I'll do my best for him, but I want you to feel he's still your dog...."
"It's simply no end good of you, Miss Ross. I'd like you to have him though ... May I put it this way? If you don't like him, find him a nuisance or want to get rid of him, you send for me and I'll fetch him away directly. But if you like him, he's your dog. There—may I leave it at that?"
"We'll try to make him happy, but I expect he'll miss you dreadfully.... I know nothing