She tried to, but
she could not.
Dogs can see fun in things as well as people can, and I buried my muzzle
in the hearth-rug, so that she would not see how I was curling up my lip
and smiling at her.
"You--are--a--good--dog," she said, slowly. "You are"--then she stopped,
and could not think of anything else to say to me. I got up and stood in
front of her, for a well-bred dog should not lie down when a lady speaks
to him. I wagged my body a little, and I would gladly have said
something to help her out of her difficulty, but I couldn't. If she had
stroked me it might have helped her; but she didn't want to touch me,
and I knew she didn't want me to touch her, so I just stood looking at
her.
"Mrs. Morris," she said, turning from me with a puzzled face, "I don't
like animals, and I can't pretend to, for they always find me out; but
can't you let that dog know that I shall feel eternally grateful to him
for saving not only our property--for that is a trifle--but my darling
daughter from fright and annoyance, and a possible injury or loss of
life?"
"I think he understands," said Mrs. Morris. "He is a very wise dog.
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