ng at the edge of the table.

"It's my custard," Miss Susan wailed, "and the minister coming to
supper!"

The "very nice dog" turned round, licking his chops contentedly. It
almost seemed as if he winked at Patricia.

The next instant, skilfully dodging Miss Susan, he had retired to the
side yard, to finish licking his chops. Truly, it was a red-letter day
for him. He wagged affably at the eloquent Miss Susan; surely he had
paid her the highest compliment in his power.

"Oh, I am so sorry," Patricia declared. "He must have been very
hungry--I couldn't have given him nearly enough breakfast." Then she
brightened. "After all, Miss Susan, I don't suppose he's ever had
custard before; and I know Dr. Vail has--lots of times."

Which view of the case did not in the least appeal to the indignant
maker of the custard.

Seeing which, Patricia concluded that the best thing to do was to take
her charge away as quickly as possible. And in the confusion milk and
cookies were quite forgotten.

"Really, you know," Patricia admonished, once they were outside the
gate, "you're not behaving at all well! Tearing table-cloths, chasing
cats, and eating up custards aren't at all good dog manners."

The culprit, quick to detect the disapproval in Patricia's voice,
thought it time to limp again.

"Is your paw very bad?" Patricia asked.

The dog assured her that it was.

"I don't know what we're going to do next," Patricia told him. And
once back on the main road, she came to a standstill. She couldn't take
her protege home; even less could she desert him. She sat down by the
roadside to consider the matter--to consider various other matters, as
well. Even with Patricias there comes the moment of reckoning.

Aunt Julia had said that the next time she evaded sewing-lesson she must
go to bed at five o'clock. Patricia stretched out her tired little legs;
at the present moment that particular form of punishment did not appear
very unendurable. Just now, however, it seemed doubtful if she would be
at home by five o'clock.

Also, Daddy had said that the next time she broke bounds in this way
he should be obliged to punish her. Patricia fanned herself with a
decidedly dingy pocket-handkerchief; she wished Daddy had
said--_how_.

"I'm not saying you're not a very nice dog," Patricia patted her
companion, curled up on the folds of her short skirts; "still, if
I hadn't met you this morning--"

The dog blinked sleepily, licking her han