“Very well,” said mistress in her pretty voice, and master bending down took the trembling Amarilla, and put her on a cushioned bench close to my chair. “You mustn’t touch his bandaged feet, doggie,” he said to her, but there was no need of warning her. The anxious little dog just wished to be near me. She was dazed from suffering, and was afraid that I would go away again. What a faithful little heart!
“Amarilla,” I said, “I missed you and Gringo more than any other of the dogs.”
She still said nothing, but she stretched out her tiny pink tongue, and licked my bandages very softly.
“Go to sleep,” I said, “we shall have some fine romps on the lawn when my feet get better.”
She drew a long, pitiful sigh, and closed her eyes. How could any one ever ill-treat a timid shrinking thing like that. I can understand how a man can beat a fox-terrier but a toy-spaniel—never!
I did not go to sleep for some time, for there was something on my mind. I wanted to see Gringo. I wondered that the dear old fellow had not been over to welcome me. Surely he knew that I had come home. I thought he would be the first to greet me. Surely that lie would not be bothering him yet.
CHAPTER XXIX
MY OWN DEAR HOME
Bright and early the next morning, I heard a sniffling at master’s dressing-room door, followed by a knock.