The dog turned his eyes on the bright childish face, then he walked straight up to Nancy, lay down at full length at her feet, and tried to lick her shoe with his tongue.
“There, you belong to us now,” said Murray, delighted. “Is not Roy wonderful? I whispered all that to him this morning. He seems to understand almost as if he were a person. It is so nice to think that there are three of us all of one mind—you, and Roy, and I. I know I shall be awfully happy at Rowton Heights in the future.”
“Come to breakfast now, Murray,” said Nancy, holding out her hand.
He clasped it in his and danced into the breakfast room by her side.
“This is Sunday,” he said presently, giving her a glance, as bold and direct as Rowton’s own.
“Yes,” replied Mrs. Rowton.
“Sunday means church. Are you going to church?” asked the child.
Nancy remembered Rowton’s wish on that subject.
“I don’t want to,” she said, “for my head aches; but all the same I shall go.”
“That is awfully brave of you,” replied Murray. “I am delighted, for I always have to go, and I have to sit in that dull old square pew by myself. I hope, auntie, now that you have come to Rowton Heights, you will get the Rowton pew altered, and made like everybody else’s. It is so dull not to see the congregation.”