nice lobster salad
was left from luncheon; and a cup of custard; being more 'an would go
in the floating island. Then a mere taste of the ice-cream, out the
freezer was meant for the kitchen, an' he seemed to relish it right
well. He licked a right smart of the custard, and as for the lobster,
you know yourself, Miss Lucy, he's always plumb crazy for shell-fish.
Not like most dogs, Chrissy isn't, won't touch such victuals. He just
dotes on anything comes out the salt water, and I----"

Miss Armacost had drawn her slight figure to its utmost height and
stood regarding her servant with eyes that fairly blazed her
indignation.

"Lobster salad and boiled custard! Not to include the ice-cream, even.
A deadly combination; and you may have the satisfaction, if you enjoy
it, of knowing that your thoughtless indulgence of his appetite will
probably cost him his life. You may go. Send Jefferson for the dog
doctor over on Penn Street. And, Mary, you carry him up to my room.
Lift him gently, poor fellow! I'm afraid we'll lose him this time."

There was unaffected grief in the little lady's tone, but Chloe was
heard to mutter, composedly, as she departed kitchenward:

"A good riddance, I say. Time he died if his living's going to make
fools of human beings."

Miss Armacost led the way, Mary carried the moaning poodle, and
Molly's curiosity, getting the better of all other considerations,
forced her to bring up the rear.

There followed a dreadful half-hour, in which the girl forgot that she
should be at home, because of the hurry and excitement in Miss Lucy's
upper sitting-room. By the end of that time Sir Christopher had ceased
to suffer the ills of age and indiscretion, and lay quite still upon
the silken cushions of his basket where his mistress had placed him.

When she found he was really dead the lady went away by herself, with
her grief that was so real to her, yet might have seemed so foolish to
others. Molly stole softly out of the house to tell the unusual
happenings of her play hour to the sympathetic ears in Side Street.
The short winter day came to a close. Darkness filled the back parlor
where the forgotten Towsley had remained to enjoy his treat; and
where, at length, the heat and quietude overcame him, so that he
slipped from the hard stool to the soft carpet and fell asleep.

It was nine o'clock in the evening when Miss Armacost re-entered the
room and touched another electric button. Instantly the place w