he Master's tone of
disgust. Yet she was eager, as ever, to make a good impression and to
lure people into liking her. Shyly she walked up to the Mistress and
laid one white little paw on her knee.

Handshaking was Lass's one accomplishment. It had been taught her by
Dick. It had pleased the boy. He had been proud of her ability to do
it. Perhaps it might also please these strangers. And after the odd
fashion of all new arrivals who came to The Place, Lass picked out the
Mistress, rather than any one else, as a potential friend.

The Mistress had ever roused the impatience of collie experts by
looking past the showier "points" of a dog and into the soul and brain
and disposition that lay behind them. So now she looked; and what she
saw in Lass's darkly wistful eyes established the intruder's status at
The Place.

"Let her stay!" pleaded the Mistress as the Master growled something
about bundling the dog into her crate again and sending her back to the
Rothsay Kennels. "Let her stay, please! She's a dear."

"But we're not breeding 'dears,'" observed the Master. "We planned to
breed a strain of perfect collies. And this is a mutt!"

"Her pedigree says there's no better collie blood in America," denied
the Mistress. "And even if she happens to be a 'second,' that's no sign
her puppies will be seconds. See how pretty and loving and wise she is.
DO keep her!"

Which of course settled the matter.

Up the lawn, from his morning swim in the lake, strolled a great
mahogany-and-white collie. At sight of Lass he lowered his head for a
charge. He was king of The Place's dogs, this mighty thoroughbred,
Sunnybank Lad. And he did not welcome canine intruders.

But he halted midway in his dash toward the puppy who frisked forth so
gayly to meet him. For he recognized her as a female. And man is the
only animal that will molest the female of his species.

The fiercely silent charge was changed in a trice to a coldly civil
touching of noses, and the majestic wagging of a plumy tail. After
which, side by side, the two collies--big and little--old and
new--walked up to the veranda, to be petted by the humans who had so
amusedly watched their encounter.

"See!" exclaimed the Mistress, in triumph. "Lad has accepted her. He
vouches for her. That ought to be enough for any one!"

Thus it was that Lass found a home.

As she never yet had been taught to know her name, she learned readily
to respond to the title of "Princess." And