g her face for his
morning greeting, "wasn't it too lovely of him to hunt me up. Isn't he
the most grateful dog ever was?"

The doctor patted the dog's rough head, then stooped to examine
Patricia's work. "Not a bad job for an eleven-year-old, Pat."

"I could do it better, only I had to make a strip from a piece I found
in Aunt Julia's scrap-bag," Patricia explained.

"Patricia!" Miss Kirby exclaimed from the doorway, "your dress is only
half buttoned, and your hair is--_Patricia Kirby_, have you gone
and hunted up another dog!"

"It's the same one, Aunt Julia. He has improved a lot, hasn't he? If
you'd seen how glad he was to see me! I suppose he'll have to be sent
back. Caesar likes him pretty well; he didn't growl at him once when I
introduced them to each other."

"It's a question whether _sending_ back will do any good," the
doctor said. He was watching the two on the steps.

Patricia stroked the bandaged paw gently. "I can't take him--I can't go
out of the yard, can I, Daddy?"

"Decidedly not."

"Couldn't you take him in the gig with you, Patrick?" Miss Kirby felt
that she was playing a losing game.

"Going quite in the opposite direction."

"And Jim?"

"Goes with me." The doctor was still studying the two on the steps.

"If he stays one day we are doomed!" Miss Kirby declared.

"That only leaves you and Sarah, doesn't it, Aunt Julia?" Patricia
asked, cheerfully.

Miss Kirby was not without a sense of humor. "I am afraid Sarah is out
of the question," she said; "and if he waits for me to take him he will
stay here--altogether."

Patricia was quick to catch the longed-for concession in her aunt's
voice. Dropping Custard, she ran to hug Miss Kirby. "Oh, you darling!
But, Daddy," she turned anxiously, "oh, do you suppose Mr. Carr will
mind _very_ much?"

"I rather think he will be able to bear the disappointment," the doctor
answered.

CHAPTER II

THE GINGHAM APRON PARTY

Fortunately, the ground under the big apple tree was soft and springy,
and Patricia was used to both low and lofty tumbling; so when she
landed, a little surprised heap, in the tangled grass, she lay still
just long enough for the small black dog, nosing anxiously about her, to
get in one or two licks of her sunburnt, bewildered face; then she sat
up.

"My, Custard, that was a stunner! I reckon if Daddy was here he'd say,
'what a fall was there, my countrymen!'" Custard wagged agreeingly, and
sniffed inquiringly