“Silky had not said a word, and she didn’t now, but she brought out that same little tin pail from under her cloak, and set it down on the floor. Norman’s eye brightened. But the dog could not be coaxed to quit the bed; he would set only his two fore-feet on the floor, and so drank the milk out of the pail. Norman watched him, almost with a smile. And when the dog, having left the milk, curled himself down again in his old place, and looked into his master’s face, Norman quite smiled.
“‘Poor Long-Ears!’—he said, patting him again with a feeble hand. ‘I’m going to leave you,—what will you do?’
“‘I’ll take care of him, Norman,’ said Mrs. Meadow.
“‘Will you?’ said Norman.
“‘As long as he lives, if you wish.’
“Norman signed for her to put her ear down to him, and said earnestly,—
“‘I give him to you—you keep him. Will you?’
“‘Yes, indeed, I will,’ said Mrs. Meadow.
“‘Then you’ll have milk enough, dear little Long-Ears,’ said Norman. ‘But,’ he said eagerly to Mrs. Meadow, ‘you must take him home with you to-night—I’m afraid father will do something with him if you don’t.’