ck Inn.
Afterwards--there being no train till four o'clock--she came with me to
choose a spaniel pup. It was to purchase him that I had started for
Friars Rory that sunshiny day.

"What shall you call him?" she said, as we made our way to the
kennels. "I really don't know," said I. "What about Seal-skin? Must
be something in memory of to-day."

She laughed merrily. Then:

"Why not Non-Stop?"

"I know," I said. "I'll call him Upset."

Three black and white urchins gambolled about us, flapping ears,
wagging ridiculous tails, uncertainly stumbling about upon baby legs.

"Oh, you darlings," said the girl, stooping among them, caressing, in
turn caressed. She raised a radiant face to me.

"However will you choose which you'll have?"

I leaned against the wall and regarded the scene before me.

"I like the big one best," I said.

"The big one?" she said, standing up. "Aren't they all the same--"

"The one on its hind legs," said I. "With the big eyes."

"Ah," she said, smiling. "But that's not for sale, I'm afraid.
Besides, its temper's very uncertain, as you know."

"I'd risk that. The spaniel is renowned for its affectionate
disposition. And what dog wouldn't turn, if it was put in the wrong
train? Besides, your coat's so silky."

"But I'm sure my ears don't droop, and I've never had distemper. Then
there's my pedigree. You don't know--"

"Don't I? By A Long Chalk, out of The Common's good enough for most
people."

"Oh, you are hopeless!" she said, laughing. She turned to the
scrambling pups. "Who's for a mad master?" she said.

Suddenly a bulldog appeared. She stood regarding us for a moment, her
massive head a little on one side. Then a great smile spread over her
countenance, and she started to sway in our direction, wagging a
greeting with her hind quarters, as bulldogs do. Two of the puppies
loped off to meet her. The long-suffering way in which she permitted
them to mouth her argued that she was accustomed to being the kindly
butt of their exuberance. The third turned to follow his fellows,
hesitated, caught my lady's eye, and rushed back to his new-found
friend.

"That's the one for me," said I. "Give me good judgment. I shall call
him Paris."

"Appropriately. Off with the old love and on with the new. I'm sure
he's faithless, and I expect the bulldog's been awfully kind to him,
haven't you, dear?" She patted the snuffling beauty. "Besides, I
gave him the gl