ees of the park
were visible. The rest of the house was still in its robust beauty. One
end abutted on the round tower, the other on the small traceried chapel,
and in an angle of the building stood a graceful well-head adorned
with mossy urns. A few roses grew against the walls, and on an upper
window-sill I remember noticing a pot of fuchsias.

My sense of the pressure of the invisible began to yield to my
architectural interest. The building was so fine that I felt a desire
to explore it for its own sake. I looked about the court, wondering in
which corner the guardian lodged. Then I pushed open the barrier
and went in. As I did so, a little dog barred my way. He was such a
remarkably beautiful little dog that for a moment he made me forget
the splendid place he was defending. I was not sure of his breed at the
time, but have since learned that it was Chinese, and that he was of
a rare variety called the "Sleeve-dog." He was very small and golden
brown, with large brown eyes and a ruffled throat: he looked rather
like a large tawny chrysanthemum. I said to myself: "These little beasts
always snap and scream, and somebody will be out in a minute."

The little animal stood before me, forbidding, almost menacing: there
was anger in his large brown eyes. But he made no sound, he came no
nearer. Instead, as I advanced, he gradually fell back, and I noticed
that another dog, a vague rough brindled thing, had limped up. "There'll
be a hubbub now," I thought; for at the same moment a third dog, a
long-haired white mongrel, slipped out of a doorway and joined the
others. All three stood looking at me with grave eyes; but not a sound
came from them. As I advanced they continued to fall back on muffled
paws, still watching me. "At a given point, they'll all charge at my
ankles: it's one of the dodges that dogs who live together put up on
one," I thought. I was not much alarmed, for they were neither large
nor formidable. But they let me wander about the court as I pleased,
following me at a little distance--always the same distance--and always
keeping their eyes on me. Presently I looked across at the ruined
facade, and saw that in one of its window-frames another dog stood: a
large white pointer with one brown ear. He was an old grave dog, much
more experienced than the others; and he seemed to be observing me with
a deeper intentness.

"I'll hear from HIM," I said to myself; but he stood in the empty
window-frame, against