"Thank you," and the stranger, checking the words which were evidently
upon his lips, bowed again, turned quickly back to his chair, buried
himself in its recesses, and retired behind a newspaper.
"Well!" gasped Sue, meeting her sister's astonished eyes, "I must
say--"
But what she must have said will remain forever a mystery, for just then
the Prince of Markeld came hurrying up.
"I hope there is no damage," he said, speaking with just the slightest
accent. "He is my dog," he added, seeing their questioning glance. "I am
very sorry. I was a little preoccupied and was not noticing him. He is
usually a very good dog. I cannot understand why he should have attacked
yours."
"He isn't mine," laughed Susie, patting the spaniel upon his silky head;
"he just ran to me for refuge."
"Evidently a most intelligent dog," observed the Prince, gravely.
"You think so?" asked Susie, her colour deepening just the faintest bit.
"Ah, here is the owner, now," she added, as a little faded old woman
came panting up.
"Oh, thank you, mademoiselle!" cried the newcomer, snatching the dog
from Susie's arms. "Thank you! He was a bad boy--he run away!" and she
held him close against her heart.
"It was nothing," protested Susie. "I am very glad I happened to be just
here. Though I don't suppose that either I or the dog was in danger of
being eaten," she added to Markeld, as the little old woman trotted
tremulously away.
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