relate all this to Dagobert?”      

       “If you think so, let us do it.”      

       “We tell him everything, as we told everything to mother. Why should we conceal this from him?”      

       “Especially as it is something which gives us so much pleasure.”      

       “Do you not find that, since we have known our friend, our hearts beat quicker and stronger?”      

       “Yes, they seem to be more full.”      

       “The reason why is plain enough; our friend fills up a good space in them.”      

       “Well, we will do best to tell Dagobert what a lucky star ours is.”      

       “You are right—” At this moment the dog gave another deep growl.     

       “Sister,” said Rose, as she pressed closer to Blanche, “there is the dog growling again. What can be the matter with him?”      

       “Spoil-sport, do not growl! Come hither,” said Blanche, striking with her little hand on the side of the bed.     

       The dog rose, again growled deeply, and came to lay his great, intelligent looking head on the counterpane, still obstinately casting a sidelong glance at the window; the sisters bent over him to pat his broad forehead, in the centre of which was a remarkable bump, the certain sign of extreme purity of race.     

       “What makes you growl so, Spoil-sport?” said Blanche, pulling him gently by the ears—“eh, my good dog?”      

       “Poor beast! he is always so uneasy when Dagobert is away.”      

       “It is true; one would think he knows that he then has a double charge over us.”      

       “Sister, it seems to me, Dagobert is late in coming to say good-night.”      

       “No doubt he is attending to Jovial.”      

       “That makes me think that we did not bid good-night to dear old Jovial.     

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