ead. So the farmhouse of the estate
opened its doors to Laddie, but he had other views and, running away
the first afternoon, made a valiant effort to get back to the Sisters.
He took one wrong turn and was lost for a night and a day, but his rare
beauty and appealing charm won him a friend who allowed him to follow
her home, fed him, read his collar and soon made telephone connection
with his distressed mistresses, already resolved to let their steamer
go without them rather than sail in ignorance of Laddie's fate. They
were stout-hearted enough, however, when they knew that he was found,
to ask the Cedar Hill farmer to go and reclaim the stray, denying
themselves and Laddie another farewell.

We hoped that in the year's separation the two brothers would forget
each other or, at least, outgrow their propensity to revert to the wild
together. It seemed the more likely because Laddie, always fragile, had
suffered a severe attack of pneumonia at the farmhouse, and came back
to the Sisters looking more like a white spirit than ever. But he took
time, on arrival, only to greet his household saints and indulge in a
brief nap on the sofa before dashing off to find Sigurd. Away they went
on an impassioned run, from which, seven hours later, Laddie came
drooping home, and even Sigurd spent the next day curled up in his
green easy chair, subdued and quiescent, looking like an illustration
for "After the Ball."

Although we kept what guard we could upon them, they managed to elude
us several times that autumn, but after the first wild spurt they would
run more slowly, Sigurd slackening his natural speed in order to keep
side by side with Laddie, whose hard panting could be heard above the
rustling of the autumn leaves through which they raced. The worry cow
hooked us badly on Christmas day. Laddie, who had coughed all night,
had to be coaxed to come out for a little walk after breakfast and was
dragging behind the Younger Sister when, turning the corner of a bright
barberry hedge, they came upon Sigurd, gorgeous in his new, upstanding
bow of holly ribbon. Hey, presto! Off they shot like young wolves on
the trail. Under the starlight our truant returned, a damp wisp hanging
from his collar. That white, wavy front of his, so carefully groomed
for the festal day, was all red and green from the holly ribbon that he
had been chewing up for his Christmas dinner. As for poor Laddie, he
was ill for a week, but rallied again, and, despit