ses,
Pink and Hilda. If Jock was at Pink's house, he would be well cared for,
and Bubble would--but here Hildegarde started, as a new perplexity
arose. Where _was_ Bubble? They had actually forgotten the boy in the
confusion and trouble of the day. He had not certainly come to the
house, as he invariably did; and the farmer had not spoken of him when
he came in at noon. Perhaps Pink was ill, Hilda thought, with fresh
alarm. If it should be so, Bubble could not leave her, for Mrs. Chirk
was nursing a sick woman two or three miles away, and there were no
other neighbors nearer than the farm. "Oh, my Pink!" cried Hilda; "and I
cannot go to you at once, for Nurse Lucy must not be left alone in her
trouble. I must wait, wait patiently till Farmer Hartley comes back."

Patiently she tried to wait. She stole up to her room, and taking up one
of her best-beloved books, "The Household of Sir Thomas More," lost
herself for a while in the noble sorrows of Margaret Roper. But even
this could not hold her long in her restless frame of mind, so she went
downstairs again, and out into the soft, golden September air, and fell
to pacing up and down the gravel walk before the house like a slender,
white-robed sentinel. Presently there was a rustling in the bushes, then
a hasty, joyful bark, and a little dog sprang forward and greeted
Hildegarde with every demonstration of affection. "Jock! my own dear
little Jock!" she cried, stooping down to caress her favorite. But as
she did so she saw that it was not Jock, but Will, Pink's dog, which was
bounding and leaping about her. Much puzzled, she nevertheless patted
the little fellow and shook paws with him, and told him she was glad to
see him. "But where is your brother?" she cried. "Oh! Willy dog, where
is Jock, and where is Bubble? Bubble, Will! speak!" Will "spoke" as well
as he could, giving a short bark at each repetition of the well-known
name. Then he jumped up on Hilda, and threw back his head with a
peculiar action which at once attracted her attention. She took him up
in her arms, and lo! there was a piece of paper, folded and pinned
securely to his collar. Hastily setting the dog down, she opened the
note and read as follows:--

MISS HILDY,

Simon Hartley he come here early this mornin and he says to
me I was diggin potaters for dinner and he come and leaned
on the fence and says he I've fixed your city gal up fine he
says and I says what yer mean I mea