"No, it's not a new tea-set for the schoolroom, Miss Clever. There's a new pupil, and that's quite enough for any schoolroom. You're no good as a guesser, and yet you've been worrying my life out for weeks about this very thing."
Mr. Forester meanwhile was untying the string which fastened down the lid of the hamper. He slowly raised it, and there, curled up in the straw, lay a little black retriever puppy, its baby face puckered up partly in fear and partly in interest over this new experience.
"What a perfect little darling!" cried Blanche. "Oh, isn't he sweet? But how could you say some people might like to eat him, papa?"
"Well, I've heard of the Chinese eating puppy-dog stew; it comes after birds'-nest soup, you know."
Mr. Forester lifted the little fellow out of the basket and set him on the floor. He began running along with such a queer little waddle that they all laughed. Then he stopped and contemplated them questioningly, as much as to say, "What are you laughing at?"
"There, Miss Blanche," said her father, "you've got your work cut out for you to train that small person in the way he should go. Don't make a fool of him, dear; love him as much as you like, but make him obey orders. He's a game little beggar, isn't he?"
Blanche was delighted. "O papa, thank you a thousand times. Is he really for my very own, like Marjory has Silky? Oh, I am so glad to have him! You darling!" she cried, catching up the dog and hugging him close.
"I thought _I_ was the darling," said Mr. Forester comically. "In fact, I'm sure I am, for thinking of it all myself."
"So you are--the dearest, darlingest papa in all the world." And the girl sprang into her father's arms.
This scene made Marjory a little bit sad.
"If only I had my father too, how happy I should be!" she thought. "But I don't even know if I've got one." And she sighed.
Blanche noticed the cloud on her friend's face, and instinctively felt what had caused it. Tears of sympathy rushed to her eyes, and she picked up the puppy and put him into Marjory's arms.
"Now," she said, with a look which Marjory understood, it was so full of sympathy, "you must christen him."
Marjory looked attentively at the little fat ball of a dog, and then said thoughtfully,--