Gerald patted the great muzzle affectionately.
"Good old Blunderbore!" he said. "I almost carried you when you were a day old, though you may not believe it. Come, Margaret, give him a pat, and say you bear no malice."
Margaret put out a timid hand and patted the great black head. Blunderbore snuffed and blew, and expressed his friendliness in every way he could.
"Why, he is a dear, gentle creature!" said the girl. "I shall never be afraid of him again. And yet—oh, Gerald, I am so glad you came!"
"So am I!" said Gerald.
"Because," Margaret went on, "of course, I see how silly and foolish I was; but all the same, I was terribly frightened, and I really don't know what would have become of me if you had not come, Gerald."
"But I did come, Margaret! I will always come, whenever you want me, if it is across the world."
"But—you must think me so very silly, Gerald!"
"Do you wish to know what I think of you?" asked Gerald.
Margaret was silent.