gly
curious.

Molly's gaze left the pictures on the walls to regard him.

"Why, what a funny creature! He is really almost as broad as he is
long, and how he does wobble! What sort of a dog is he? What's the
matter with him? What--why----"

Her questions died upon her lips, and they remained parted in surprise
as she watched what followed. For the maid spread a white towel upon
the carpet before the register and placed an exquisite saucer of
finest china upon the towel. Into the saucer she ladled a generous
helping of the cream, and seizing the poodle's head with one vigorous
hand thrust his black nose into the frozen mass.

Sir Christopher drew back his head and sneezed, then immediately
sought to feel the cream again. His actions were so odd that Molly
again demanded:

"What is the matter with him?"

"He is blind," answered Miss Lucy sadly. "He is very old. Seventeen
years last summer, and he has lost all his teeth. He suffers greatly
with the rheumatism----"

"So does father! He uses a liniment and it helps him. I might run and
get you some. I'm sure mother would be glad to lend it to you. She is
a real good neighbor, mother is. I never heard of a dog with the
rheumatism, and--isn't he funny? The funniest thing I've seen to-day!
Does he always have his table set in that way? Won't he break the
saucer? He's fumbling it all around, and he's as stiff in his joints
as father ever was the very worst day he's had. I'll run and get----"

But Miss Armacost held up a protesting hand.

"Don't trouble, I beg. Sir Christopher is past cure. Besides, I could
not endure the odor of any liniment. He has had the best advice in the
city. My own doctor has treated him, as a great favor, of course, and
out of consideration for my feelings. But the case is hopeless. It is
but a matter of time and--and we must part."

"Why--why--he's only a dog, isn't he?" exclaimed the too frank girl
from Side Street.

"Indeed! If he is, there are some dogs which are higher than some
people. He has been my constant companion for seventeen years
and--and--Mary, help that boy to some of that cream. His eyes will
come out of his head if he stares at it much longer. Give him plenty,
and a big slice of cake."

"Yes, mistress; but he does look as if he'd enjoy his victuals better
if his face was washed first."

Poor Towsley! Only that terrible shyness, which again gripped him so
that he turned all cold and shivery, prevented him making a dash