“We’ve wanted to come ever so often,” said Leigh.
“We was waiting for papa,” added Mary. “And we didn’t come round this way ’cos it made us want the dear little dog so much.”
Yakeman listened gravely.
“I thought I hadn’t seen you passing the last few days,” he said. “But I wouldn’t have let the dog go, not without sending up to ask you.”
“Oh, we knowed you’d keep him,” said Mary, and then Yakeman led the way round to the side of the house again, where the four puppies were rolling and tumbling about in perfect content, their mother watching their gambols with great pride.
Suddenly a new thought struck Mary.
“Won’t her be very unhappy when them all goes away?” she asked Yakeman anxiously. “And won’t them cry for their mamma?”
The smith smiled.
“They’re getting old enough to do without her now,” he said. “But she’ll miss them, no doubt, will poor old Beauty,” and he patted the retriever’s head as he spoke. “It’s the way of the world, bain’t it, sir?” turning to the children’s father. “Dogs and humans. The young ones leave the old ones cheery enough. It’s the old ones as it’s hard on!”
Mary did not quite understand what he meant, but something made her catch hold of her father’s hand.