"The best thing you can do, Alice," Fred replied, as Frank stood looking at the dog, who tried several times, but in vain, to scramble out, the ice each time breaking with its weight, "will be to turn and walk away; there is no use standing here harrowing your feelings by watching that poor little brute drown." "Can nothing be done, Frank?" Alice again asked, paying no heed to Fred's suggestion. "That is just what I am thinking," Frank replied. "You stop here, Alice, with Fred. I will go on and see what they are doing." "Can't I go with you, Frank?" "You had better stop here," Frank replied; "the crowd is getting thick there, and they are a roughish lot. Besides, you will not be able to see over their heads, and can do no good; so just do as I bid you." The girl remained obediently with her cousin Fred, while Frank went off at a run towards the group. "Frank orders you about just as if you were his fag," Fred said, with a smile which had in it something of a sneer. "I don't mind," the girl said staunchly, "it's Frank's way, and I like it;--at any rate one always knows what Frank means, and he always means well." "That is as much as to say, Alice, that you don't always understand what I mean, and that I don't always mean well," Fred Barkley said in a quiet tone, but with a little flush of anger in his usually somewhat pale cheeks. "No, I don't know that I mean that," Alice said carelessly; "but I do not always understand what you mean, though I always understand what you say." "I should have thought that was the same thing," Fred replied. "Should you?" Alice rejoined. "Well I shouldn't, that's all." As Frank Norris approached the group he began to unbutton his collar and waistcoat. "It will be a beastly cold swim," he grumbled to himself, "but I can't see the poor little brute drowned, and drowned he certainly will be if no one goes in for him. It's no distance to swim, and I should think one could wade to within twenty yards of him; but it certainly will be horribly cold." And he gave a shiver of anticipation as he looked at the smooth frozen surface. With some little difficulty Frank pushed his way through to the centre of the group by the water's side. A little girl, poorly dressed, was standing crying bitterly; a cripple boy in a box upon wheels was trying to pacify her, while another who had taken off his coat and waistcoat, and laid them in the lap of the cripple, was unlacing his boots. "Are you going in, young un?" Frank said, as he joined them. "Yes, sir; I am going in for Flossy. She belongs to this little girl, who is one of our neighbours." "Can you swim well?" Frank asked, "for the water will be bitterly cold." "Yes," the boy answered confidently, "I goes regularly for a swim above Vauxhall Bridge in the summer, and keeps on until the water gets too cold. I can do that fast enough. I suppose the ice will break right enough," and he looked up inquiringly at Frank.