e, too, and his paws,
and his eyes had a wistful, human look that went straight to Lloyd's
heart. She shook the offered paw, and then impulsively threw her arms
around his neck, exclaiming, "Oh, you deah old fellow! I can't help
lovin' you. You're the beautifulest dog I evah saw!"

He understood the caress, if not the words, for he reached up to touch her
cheek with his tongue, and wagged his tail as if he were welcoming a
long-lost friend. Just then Mrs. Sherman stepped out of the elevator.
"Good-bye, Hero," said the Little Colonel. "I must go now, but I hope I'll
see you when I come back." Nodding good-bye to the Major, she followed her
mother out to the street, where her father stood waiting beside an open
carriage.

Lloyd enjoyed the drive that morning as they spun along beside the river,
up and down the strange streets with the queer foreign signs over the shop
doors. Once, as they drove along the quay, they met the Major and the dog,
and in response to a courtly bow, the Little Colonel waved her hand and
smiled. The empty sleeve recalled her grandfather, and gave her a friendly
feeling for the old soldier. She looked back at Hero as long as she could
see a glimpse of his white and yellow curls.

It was nearly noon when they stopped at a place where Mrs. Sherman wanted
to leave an enamelled belt-buckle to be repaired. Lloyd was not interested
in the show-cases, and could not understand the conversation her father
and mother were having with the shopkeeper about enamelling. So, saying
that she would go out and sit in the carriage until they were ready to
come, she slipped away.

She liked to watch the stir of the streets. It was interesting to guess
what the foreign signs meant, and to listen to the strange speech around
her. Besides, there was a band playing somewhere down the street, and
children were tugging at their nurses' hands to hurry them along. Some
carried dolls dressed in the quaint costumes of Swiss peasants, and some
had balloons. A man with a bunch of them like a cluster of great red
bubbles, had just sold out on the corner.

So she sat in the sunshine, looking around her with eager, interested
eyes. The coachman, high up on his box, seemed as interested as herself;
at least, he sat up very straight and stiff. But it was only his back that
Lloyd saw. He had been at a fete the night before. There seems to be
always a holiday in Geneva. He had stayed long at the merrymaking and had
taken many mugs