“Why, yes!” said Sophy, surprise at Katherine’s vehemence drying her tears. “Why shouldn’t I?” “Never mind,” interposed Honor. “It is too late now, but another time, Sophy, please be more careful to do exactly as I say. Isn’t it time for you to go to your music lesson, Katherine? I am going to Aunt Sophia’s room to see if she wants anything. Come, Sophy.” But Sophy declined to accompany her. She sat on the top step of the stairs, waiting for Vic to emerge from her locked room or for Mr. Madison to leave Peter. She thought her sisters were all very peculiar to-day. She had heard Victoria’s remark to Mr. Madison and she wondered what she could have meant. She stored it away in the recesses of her memory, intending to ask about it when a convenient opportunity should present itself. When Roger Madison was left alone with Peter, he quietly closed the door, and drawing up the chair which Victoria had vacated he sat down near the bed. “I am sure you want to hear all about your brave, good dog,” said he; “and so I have come to tell you. He saved his master’s life if ever a dog did. If it hadn’t been for him, you wouldn’t be lying here now. Would you like me to tell you about it?” “Yes,” said Peter. And then Mr. Madison described to him the scene on the bridge. “It was a glorious end for Sirius,” said he, when he had finished. “I know you feel badly enough about losing your dog. So should I. Indeed, I went through very much the same experience myself once, when I was a little younger than you—no, perhaps about your age. You are fourteen, aren’t you? I lost a dog that I was very fond of, and if it hadn’t been for my sister I should have been very selfish about it. She showed me how I ought to take it.” “Oh, it’s easy for girls to talk,” said Peter. “They’ve all been in here this afternoon, telling me I ought to bear it, and make the best of it, and all that. As if I could ever get over losing Sirius, the best dog that ever lived! It is ridiculous for those girls to talk the way they do.” “My dear fellow,” said Roger Madison, “do you know that you are a very lucky fellow to have those sisters? I’ve often wondered whether you appreciated them. I have one sister, and I wouldn’t give her up for all the money in the world. You have four, so you ought to be four times as grateful.” “For four sisters?” said Peter, incredulously. “They’re nice enough, of course, but they order a fellow round too much, and they don’t understand. They seem to think I oughtn’t to mind about Sirius a bit.” “I don’t think they feel that way. They have been very much worried about you, and they have felt pretty badly, I can tell you, about Sirius’s death and the way you would feel it. I happen to know that, and I also know that your sister Victoria has been crying about it this afternoon.” “Vic crying?” Peter seemed to be as much impressed by this fact as Sophy had been.