“How lovely of you!” said Anne, going up to give him a frank kiss of thanks, a hand on each shoulder.
“They’ll keep the dogs from straying away and getting lost. I always put bells on my hounds’ first collars,” he said, quite at his ease again.
“By the way,” he added, stooping, “what are those letters printed on the dish the pups are feeding from?”
“‘Drink, Puppy, Drink.’ They come made that way; and I think the pups understand, for they do it all day long,” and this time Mr. Hugh joined in the laugh.
That evening when Anne went to put away the dog pictures, much to her vexation she could not find the one of Miss Letty feeding the kennel dogs, and she so wanted to give it to Mr. Hugh.
CHAPTER XIII
BEN UNCAS’S LAST HUNT
One Saturday Anne discovered that Waddles was very low in his mind. It was after a week when she had been busy at school, and had devoted her afternoons and evenings to taking and developing more or less successful dog pictures, to make the albums in aid of Mrs. Carr’s “fund,” so that she had paid less attention than usual to the house fourfoots.