We met at breakfast in the hotel dining-room, a queer-looking crowd. As we laughed at each other's appearance, it was hard for each to realize that he or she looked just as absurd; but an unprejudiced observer would have found little to choose between us. As soon as the meal was over, the three men started out to find a way to get us all home again. Everything seemed to conspire to delay us, and it was half-past twelve at noon when we entered our own gate, the click of the latch bringing Bruno's face to the window with a series of joyful barks. Poor fellow! His long confinement to the house, his empty plate and bowl, his joyful reception of us, and then his springing out to dash round and round the lot, filled our hearts with compassion. As soon as his first burst of enthusiasm was over, he came in, and crept up to me with dejected ears and tail, which in his language meant "mea culpa." I asked,-- "What is it, Boonie? What's Boonie been doing?" Still lower sank head and tail, and his knees began to weaken. I made a hasty survey of the sitting-room, and then I understood. He had slept on the lounge, a thing he was strictly forbidden to do. "Oh, Boonie!" I cried, "you naughty dog! Judith thought she could trust you!" At this his knees gave way, and he sank to the floor utterly dejected. He would not rise, nor even look up, until I had forgiven and comforted him. The next time we had to leave him alone in the house, I built a "booby-trap," with two light chairs on the lounge, which left him looking so utterly crushed that I never had the heart to do it again. But he never more transgressed in that way, so I felt that I had dealt wisely with him. It was a hard necessity which forced us to shut him up when we were going where it would not do to take him. At first we had tried leaving him outside; but we found that after we had been gone awhile, his heart was always sure to fail him, and he would track us, turning up invariably just in time to cover us with confusion, his own dejected mien saying plainly,-- "I know this is against orders, but I just _had_ to do it." He had a wonderful development of conscience. We sometimes thought that this, as well as the other mental gifts of which he showed himself to be possessed, were due to the shape of his head. His nose was very short, and his forehead unusually high and well-rounded. Of course his life as a close companion to humans and as a full member of a family circle, was calculated to foster these mental gifts; but they were surely there, to begin with. We might treat dozens of dogs just as we treated Bruno, without developing another that would compare with him. He was unique; and I shall always glory in the fact that he loved and trusted us. His was a love not to be lightly won, nor, once given, ever to be recalled. CHAPTER XIII