“Soon after this, Mr. Simpson was obliged to leave his country residence on account of his children’s education, and remove into Edinburgh. Speaking one day to a friend, he said, ‘I regret extremely that I shall be obliged to part with my faithful dog, as he is too large to be kept in a city house.’
“The animal was present, and heard him say this, and must have understood what was meant, for he disappeared that very evening, and was never afterwards heard from.”
Minnie was silent a few minutes when her cousin ceased reading, and then said, half crying,—
“I’m afraid Leo will go away, for I told him I did not love him.”
Ida gayly approached the window, expecting to see the dog, as usual at this hour, sunning himself in front of the stable; but as she did not, she offered to go and find him. She had scarcely reached the hall when she met him coming up the stairs. He looked wishfully in her face, and then went to Minnie’s door, and began to scratch upon it.
Ida opened it, wondering what he wanted, when Leo, with his tail between his legs as if conscious he had done wrong, went directly to the couch, and putting his cold nose into Minnie’s hand, asked, as well as he could, to be forgiven for his offence.
“I do love you, Leo,” she exclaimed, caressing him; “you’re a real good dog; and you won’t hurt Jacko again. Poor Jacko!”
On hearing these words, Leo began to wag his tail joyfully, and then, putting his paws on the bed, licked the hand she playfully held out to him.