“I will do so,” said Mrs. Constant, “as soon as I have seen poor old Don cared for and my other dogs out of harm’s way.”
Now the dog had another spasm, and it proved to be his last. He stiffened out and died.
Nick turned away and went into the show room to inquire as to the manner in which the dogs on exhibition were guarded and cared for, and in doing so passed half an hour inspecting the dogs.
At the end of that time, as he approached the center division, he saw Mrs. Constant standing beside a dog with her hand upon its head.
He lifted his hat in salutation, and was surprised to see her state of wonder and doubtful return of the recognition.
He smiled as he thought swift forgetfulness of himself was not flattering. Excusing it on the ground that she was troubled over the death of her favorites, he passed on into the street and went home, where he related the peculiar occurrence that had successfully driven away his fit of the “blues.”
A short time after his arrival the servant announced Mrs. Constant.
Nick directed that the lady should be shown into the room he was occupying.
Edith, Nick Carter’s wife, who was also in the room, arose to go, but before she could leave the apartment, Mrs. Constant entered, and exclaimed:
“Why, Edith!”