Edgar could not help smiling, and the consciousness of his own smile removed his fear. Now he was anxious to say something in reply, but it seemed self-assertive and impudent to answer this affable stranger, who spoke to him in such a friendly way. He never had been forward and was easily abashed, so that now he was in the greatest embarrassment from sheer happiness and shame. He would have liked to continue the conversation, but nothing occurred to him. Luckily the great yellow St. Bernard belonging to the hotel came up and sniffed at both of them and allowed himself to be petted.
“Do you like dogs?” asked the baron.
“Oh, very much. Grandma has one in her villa at Bains. When we stop there he stays with me the whole time. But that’s only in the summer when we go visiting.”
“We have a lot of dogs at home on our estate, a full two dozen, I believe. If you behave yourself here I’ll make you a present of one, brown with white ears, a pup still. Would you like to have it?”
The child turned scarlet with joy.
“I should say so.”
The words fairly burst from his lips in an access of eagerness. Then he caught himself up and stammered in distress and as if frightened:
“But mother won’t allow me to have a dog. She says she won’t keep a dog in the house. It’s too much of a nuisance.”
The baron smiled. The conversation had at last come round to the mother.