At last, after dinner, he sought Mr. Wycherly in his study, scratching vigorously at the door until he was admitted. Once in, he walked about sniffing dubiously; finally, going to Mr. Wycherly, and with his paws across his knees, leant heavily upon him, and looked up in his face, plainly asking, "Where is she?"
This was Gantry Bill's favourite attitude with Jane-Anne. He was too big and heavy for her to nurse, but he loved to stand on his hind legs and lean his body across her knees, while she, generally immersed in a book, absently stroked his head.
"She's gone, Gantry Bill," Mr. Wycherly said, in answer to his look. "She has gone away and left us, and we must just make the best of it."
Gantry Bill gave a sudden lurch and arranged his whole heavy person across Mr. Wycherly's knees. He weighed forty-four pounds, but somehow Mr. Wycherly had not the heart to drive him away.
Instead, he stroked him absently, and murmured:
"Say I'm weary, say I'm sad;
Say that health and wealth have missed me;
Say I'm growing old, but add—
Jenny kissed me."
THE END
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. WYCHERLY'S WARDS ***