“‘Entirely!—of course!’ said Mr. Swift; ‘but Mr. Carroll has said it, and so a new rule is made for the occasion. Mr. Carroll was willing to let such a pretty creature be anywhere, I believe.’
“‘I should be afraid he would get hurt.’
“‘So I was, but the dog has sense enough; he gets into no danger, and keeps out of the way like a Christian.’
“‘May we go in, sir, and see Norman for a moment?’
“‘Certainly,’ Mr. Swift said; and himself led the way.
“Through several long rooms and rows of workers went Mr. Swift, and Mrs. Meadow and Silky after him, to the one where they found little Norman. He was standing before some sort of a machine, folding papers and pressing them against rows of pins, that were held all in order and with their points ready, by two pieces of iron in the machine. Norman was not working smartly, and looked already jaded, though it was early in the afternoon. Close at his feet, almost touching him, lay the little white dog. A very little and a most beautiful creature. Soft, white, curling hair, and large silky ears that drooped to the floor, as he lay with his head upon his paws; and two gentle brown eyes looked almost pitifully up at the strangers. He did not get up; nor did Norman look round, till Mrs. Meadow spoke to him.
“‘Hey, my boy, how are you getting on?’ Mr. Swift said first, with a somewhat rough but not unkind slap across the shoulders. Norman shrugged his shoulders, and said,—
“‘Pretty well, thank you, sir,—’ when he heard Mrs. Meadow’s soft, ‘Norman, how do you do?’
“His fingers fell from the row of pin points, and he turned towards her, looking a good deal surprised and a little pleased, but with a very sober face.