“Oh, Douglas! Douglas!” she exclaimed, while the visitor looked on with amazement. “Have you found me and I you at last?” And the dog whined and caressed her till she feared he would die from excess of joy unless she calmed him.
“You and I will never be parted again. You shall live here and help care for other lost and unwanted ones.”
For years Douglas thankfully shared in the care and love of his mistress. She could not bear to see him grow old, but he had suffered too much to live to the usual age of St. Bernards. When he died his head was in Miss Benson’s lap, and his great brown eyes looked upon her face and whitening hair as the last precious thing to be seen in life. She buried him and laid flowers upon his grave, for was he not her devoted, loyal friend? A neat headstone tells where faithful Douglas sleeps.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE:
—Obvious print and punctuation errors were corrected.