im up and holding him out at
arm's length. 'Don, I'm _not_ hard on you, am I? I love you, only I see
your faults, and you know it. You're full of deceitfulness' (here she
kissed him between the eyes and set him down). 'Aunt Sophy, you would
never have found out his trick about the milk if it hadn't been for
me--_would_ you now?'

'Perhaps not, my love,' agreed Miss Millikin mildly.

The trick in question was a certain ingenious device of Don's for
obtaining a double allowance of afternoon tea--a refreshment for which
he had acquired a strong taste. The tea had once been too hot and burnt
his tongue, and, as he howled with the pain, milk had been added. Ever
since that occasion he had been in the habit of lapping up all but a
spoonful or two of the tea in his saucer, and _then_ uttering a pathetic
little yelp; whereupon innocent Miss Millikin would as regularly fill up
the saucer with milk again.

But, unfortunately for Don, his mistress had invited her niece Daisy to
spend part of her summer holidays at her pretty cottage in the Lake
District, and Daisy's sharper eyes had detected this little stratagem
about the milk on the very first evening!

Daisy was fourteen, and I fancy I have noticed that when a girl is about
this age, she not unfrequently has a tendency to be rather a severe
disciplinarian when others than herself are concerned. At all events
Daisy had very decided notions on the proper method of bringing up
dogs, and children too; only there did not happen to be any children at
Applethwaite Cottage to try experiments upon; and she was quite sure
that Aunt Sophy allowed herself to be shamefully imposed upon by Don.

There was perhaps some excuse for Miss Millikin, for Don was a
particularly charming specimen of the Yorkshire terrier, with a silken
coat of silver-blue, set off by a head and paws of the ruddiest gold.
His manners were most insinuating, and his great eyes glowed at times
under his long hair, as if a wistful, loving little soul were trying to
speak through them. But, though it seems an unkind thing to say, it must
be confessed that this same soul in Don's eyes was never quite so
apparent as when he was begging for some peculiarly appetising morsel.
He was really fond of his mistress, but at meal times I am afraid he
'put it on' a little bit. Of course this was not quite straightforward;
but then I am not holding him up as a model animal.

How far he understood the conversation that has been gi