This behaviour was probably owing to the fact that it was the first time that he had worn an ornamental collar with a large bow on it since the day of his disgrace and clipping, and he did not seem quite to know himself, or be sure who he really was, like the little old woman in the story who had her petticoats “cut all round about.” His closely clipped hind quarters told of freedom and the life of his ancestors, who, as everybody knows, were one of the most ancient water-dog families of France, being wonderful retrievers and renowned swimmers. But the clanking collar and great bow of wide rose-pink satin ribbon tickled the back of his neck and made his head feel as if it was tied on. It also reminded him of the days in Paris when he went to a dog dancing-master to learn to waltz, and to the barber to have his wool clipped in as many useless devices as the tattoos of a savage, so that he might be sold for a great price to be the clown of some lady of fashion. Fortunately for him, however, the lady who bought him was Miss Letty’s aunt Marie. So there he sat and brooded and if Anne had been his mistress she would have understood and been on the watch for some sort of outbreak. [Illustration] Sophie and Charlie Mayhew were the next to come. They were heralded by much squeaking and creaking of wheels, for Charlie played horse and brought his sister in state, sitting in her little canopy-top box wagon with dainty Miss Silvie, an aristocratic Yorkshire terrier, beside her. Miss Silvie wore a light blue satin bow, and her silver-blue locks had been brushed until they hung in a glistening fringe. She also seemed depressed by her dressed-up condition, refused to give a paw to either Pinkie or Dorothy, and crawled on her stomach over to the porch, where she gave Hamlet an apologetic lick and crouched close beside him, the pair looking very much like bored human beings at an afternoon function where they were perfect strangers. “Hurrah! here come Jessie and Jack Lane, now the party can begin,” cried Tommy, who had climbed a small tree the better to see down the road, and up dashed a pony-cart containing a boy of nine, a girl of seven, a lovely ruby spaniel, and the coloured groom Charles, while behind followed a half-grown English setter pup. “Mr. Lane directed me, miss,” said the groom, addressing Miss Letty as evidently the one in command, “as how I’d better stay in the ’mediate vicinity, miss, in case of trouble or a scrimmage between these yere dogs, miss, it being not improbable they might, miss, ’specially ourn, Ruby being most polight, miss, but that there Blackberry the setter pup, miss, bein’ variegated in his disposition, miss, and uncertain where he’ll break out, but he would follow.” Miss Letty told the man to stay by all means, such a possible complication not having occurred to her; so after taking the pony to the stable, he discreetly lost himself in the shadow of the near-by shrubbery.