The intimacy, if so it could be called, continued in spite of Nelly Pollard’s prohibitions, and the barriers raised by her—notwithstanding Tot’s rougher reminders of his duty to the spaniel, and attempts at coercing Cæsar—till a prolonged howl of terror and anguish arose one morning, and caused the brother and sister to rush simultaneously—Tot from his chemical experiments, Nell from her gardening—to the back court where the watch-dog’s couch stood, and from which the cry proceeded. Sure enough, Dash had been a little too importunate, and a shade indiscreet in his greeting, when Cæsar was engaged with his morning meal; and the tyrant had leaped upon his slave, rolled him over, and though Cæsar had thought fit to spare life and limb, he had planted with his fangs more than one terrible love-token in Dash’s quivering flesh. When Tot and Nelly ran into the court, the criminal retired growling to his fastness, and Dash, who had actually fainted, lay prostrate and mangled—a miserable warning to all foolish, wayward dogs and men. He was loudly bemoaned, tenderly borne off the field, and succoured to the best of his doctor’s and nurse’s powers—even Tot forgot for the moment to remark it was Dash’s own blame. With great care and trouble the spaniel’s wounds were healed; and where do you think he limped the first time he could drag his shattered little carcase abroad once more? Not to Tot’s room—though Tot had expended on the dog every particle of his skill as a medical student; not to Nelly’s room—though Nelly had prayed to be allowed to have his basket by her fire, in order to see to his wants during the night—as a mother watches her baby—and had lost not a few hours of beauty sleep in consequence. Dash had licked the hands of his doctor and nurse most impartially all the time they were in attendance on him. He had whined and wagged his tail, and absolutely grovelled to them, as if they were the objects of his profoundest gratitude, his lowliest adoration. Doubtless the dog was grateful, and did love his young friends; but his own will was more to him than his gratitude, and his fitful inclinations than his allegiance. It does not sound well in a dog; yet I have heard and read of such conduct in a man, above all in a woman, when it was narrated coolly without a word of censure—nay, with strongly expressed notes of admiration!