ssed. Joergen was a cleverer man than she had taken him for. Once he
had the opportunity to develop all his gifts, he would surprise many
besides herself.

She walked along, shrinking into herself like a leaf in too dry heat.

"You will manage this with Uncle Klaus yourself?"

"I shall go back with you now, as you may suppose. You need not have
come. You had only to let me know."

Her head was bent and she was trembling. His superiority robbed her of
her strength and courage; his words sickened her. As on a previous
occasion, one foot refused to plant itself in front of the other; she
could follow no farther.

Then she heard Joergen call: "Come here, you little devil!" The dog
again! His dirty scamp of a playfellow had once more tempted him from
the path of duty.

There was something peculiar about Joergen's voice when it commanded--it
was subdued and sharp at the same time. The dog recognised it, but only
looked round, irresolute. Being endowed with a happy frivolity of
disposition, he rushed again merrily up to his comrade and went on with
the game as if nothing had been said.

Mary stood learning a lesson. It was just underneath John Ericson's
statue that this happened. She looked up at the statue, looked into John
Ericson's kind, thoughtful eyes, until tears filled her own. She was
utterly miserable.

Joergen was engrossed with the dog. The animal's education was conducted
on the principle that he must never be allowed to have his own will when
it conflicted with his master's. "Come here, you little rogue," said
Joergen ingratiatingly. The dog was so surprised that he stopped in the
middle of his game. "Good dog! come along!" He made one or two joyful
bounds in Joergen's direction; he remembered the good times they had had
together--perhaps such a time awaited him now. But, whatever the reason,
doubt seized him--he turned back and was soon between his dirty friend's
paws again, both of them sprawling in the mud.

The passers-by stopped, amused by the animal's disobedience. This
annoyed Joergen. Mary knew it, and made an attempt to save the dog.
Standing behind Joergen, she said softly in French: "It is not fair first
to coax and then to strike." Her words only made him more obstinate.
"This is a matter you don't understand," he answered, also in French,
and continued coaxing.

With the short-sighted trustfulness common to sweet-tempered puppies,
the dog stopped in his game and looked at Joergen. Joergen,