er teeth. Her two pups sat down in the
doorway and yapped at him.

Rose tried not to laugh, while the Poms ran round and round her skirts,
panting with their ridiculous exertions.

"That's Prince--the mole--he's a pedigree dog. He doesn't belong to us.
And this," said Rose, darting under the table and picking up the white
Pom, "this is Joey."

The white Pom leaped in her arms. He licked her face in a rapture of
affection.

"Is Joey a pedigree dog, too?" said Tanqueray.

"Yes," said Rose. She met his eyes without flinching.

"So young a dog----"

"No, sir, Joey's not so very young."

She was caressing the little thing tenderly, and Tanqueray saw that
there was something wrong with Joey.

Joey was deplorably lean and puny, and his hair, which should have stood
out till Joey appeared three times the size he was, his hair, what hair
he had, lay straight and limp along his little back. Rose passed her
hand over him the wrong way.

"You should always brush a Pom the wrong way, sir. It brings the hair
on."

"I'm afraid, Rose, you've worn his hair away with stroking it."

"Oh no, sir. That's the peculiarity of Joey's breed. Joey's my dog,
sir."

"So I see."

He saw it all. Joey was an indubitable mongrel, but he was Rose's dog,
and she loved him, therefore Joey's fault, his hairlessness, had become
the peculiarity, not to say the superiority, of Joey's breed.

She read his thoughts.

"We're taking great pains to bring it on before the tenth."

"The tenth?"

"The Dog Show, sir."

(Heavens above! She was going to show him!)

"And do you think you'll bring it on before the tenth?"

"Oh yes, sir. You've only got to brush a Pom's hair backwards and it
comes."

The little dogs clamoured to be gone. She stooped, stroking them,
smoothing their ears back and gazing into their eyes, lost in her own
tenderness, and unaware that she was watched. If Rose had been skilled
in the art of allurement she could not have done better than let him see
how she loved all things that had life.

"How any one can be unkind to dumb animals," said Rose, musing.

[Illustration: "How any one can be unkind to dumb animals," said Rose,
musing]

She moved slowly to the door, gathering up the puppies in her arms, and
calling to the rest to follow her. "Come along," she said, "and see what
Pussy's doing."

He heard her voice going down-stairs saying,
"Puss--Puss--Pussy--Min--Min--Min."

When she appeared to him the next day,