her father's knee, Patricia told
in detail the story of her day's experiences. She had the comforting
conviction that when Daddy knew all he would not be very displeased
with her.

More than once, during that recital, the doctor's mouth twitched under
his mustache, and he turned rather suddenly to look out of the window.

"But, Pat," he exclaimed, as she finished, "what made it so imperative
for you to find that tramp dog a home?"

Patricia's gray eyes were very earnest. "Some one had to do it, Daddy."

The doctor smoothed back the soft, thick curls. "But, Pat, I cannot have
you burdening yourself with the responsibility of finding homes for all
the stray animals that cross your path."

"He was so miserable, Daddy--outside; and so really nice--inside.
I don't believe he liked being a tramp dog."

The doctor stooped and kissed her; it was not easy to be severe with
Patricia. "Still, dear, it must not happen again; you run too great
a risk; stray dogs are not always very dependable as to temper."

"It's going to be mighty hard not to, Daddy."

"And Patricia, where are my scissors, and salve, and soap?"

"I'm afraid--down by the brook; so's the towel. I was glad I'd watched
you bandage Caesar's paw that time."

"That is all very well; but, Patricia, you are not to meddle with any of
the office things again without permission. And now, about this matter
of breaking bounds to-day?"

Patricia looked up quickly. "You--you'll 'take the intention into
consideration,' Daddy?"

The doctor smiled. "Yes, but," his face grew grave again, "I must also
take into consideration the fact that this is by no means the first time
you have gone wandering off, causing your aunt a great deal of anxiety."

"I can't think why she will worry so. I always come back all right."

"That is not the point. It must be only the yard for the rest of the
week, Patricia."

Patricia drew a long breath. "Well," she said, slowly, "I _am_ glad
it's Thursday night 'stead of Monday morning."

* * * * *

Patricia sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. What had wakened her?

A second series of short, sharp little barks sent her hurrying to the
window. On the path below, a bit of frayed rope dangling from his neck,
stood Custard.

When the doctor came downstairs, twenty minutes later, he found Patricia
on the back steps, with Custard in her lap, busily placing a fresh
bandage on the hurt paw. "Daddy," she cried, liftin