At Love's Cost

She leant her chin on her hand and looked before her as she sung

softly; and at that moment her thoughts strayed from the question of

what she should do to keep the cows from the lawn, to the young man who

had rescued her lamb for her. She did not think of him with anything

like interest or curiosity, but she was recalling the ludicrous picture

he made as he struggled to the bank with the lamb in his arms, and a

faint smile crossed her face. At this moment Donald and Bess strolled

out to join her. They would much have preferred to have remained

roasting themselves in front of the Hall fire, but, ridiculous as it

was for their mistress to leave the warm house for the comparatively

cold terrace, they felt themselves in duty bound to join her.

Perhaps they might catch sight of a rabbit to repay them for

their exertions. Donald walked with stately steps toward his

mistress, and Bess was following, with a shiver of reluctance

and a backward glance towards the fire-light which shone through

the open door, when suddenly she sniffed the presence of a

stranger, and, with a sharp yap, hurled herself down the broad steps

and towards the spot where Stafford still stood. Donald, with a loud

bay, followed with his long stride, and Ida, startled from her reverie,

followed as far as the top of the steps, and waited.

"I might have expected the faithful watch-dog," said Stafford to

himself. "Now, what on earth am I to do? I suppose they'll spring on

me--the collie, at any rate. It's no use running; I've got to stop and

face it. What a confounded nuisance! nuisance! But it serves me right.

I've no business to be loafing about the place."

As the dogs came up, he put on that air of conciliation which we all

know, and murmuring "Good dog! All right, old chap!" tried to pacify

Donald and Bess. But they were not accustomed to intruders, especially

at that time of night, and they were legitimately furious. Dancing

round him, and displaying dazzling teeth threateningly, they drew

nearer and nearer, and they would certainly have sprung upon him; but

the girl came, not running, but quickly, down the steps and straight

across the dewy grass towards them, calling to the dogs as she came in

her clear, low voice, which had not a trace of fear in it. Their loud

barking changed to sullen growls as she approached; and, motioning them

to be still, she stopped and gazed at Stafford, who stepped out into

the moonlight.