Chance

The girl-friend (it was one of them) went past some way as though she had

not seen me, then stopped and called the dog to her several times; but he

only nestled closer to my side, and when I tried to push him away

developed that remarkable power of internal resistance by which a dog

makes himself practically immovable by anything short of a kick. She

looked over her shoulder and her arched eyebrows frowned above her

blanched face. It was almost a scowl. Then the expression changed. She

looked unhappy. "Come here!" she cried once more in an angry and

distressed tone. I took off my hat at last, but the dog hanging out his

tongue with that cheerfully imbecile expression some dogs know so well

how to put on when it suits their purpose, pretended to be deaf.

She cried from the distance desperately.

"Perhaps you will take him to the cottage then. I can't wait."

"I won't be responsible for that dog," I protested getting down the bank

and advancing towards her. She looked very hurt, apparently by the

desertion of the dog. "But if you let me walk with you he will follow us

all right," I suggested.

She moved on without answering me. The dog launched himself suddenly

full speed down the road receding from us in a small cloud of dust. It

vanished in the distance, and presently we came up with him lying on the

grass. He panted in the shade of the hedge with shining eyes but

pretended not to see us. We had not exchanged a word so far. The girl

by my side gave him a scornful glance in passing.

"He offered to come with me," she remarked bitterly.

"And then abandoned you!" I sympathized. "It looks very unchivalrous.

But that's merely his want of tact. I believe he meant to protest

against your reckless proceedings. What made you come so near the edge

of that quarry? The earth might have given way. Haven't you noticed a

smashed fir tree at the bottom? Tumbled over only the other morning

after a night's rain."

"I don't see why I shouldn't be as reckless as I please."

I was nettled by her brusque manner of asserting her folly, and I told

her that neither did I as far as that went, in a tone which almost

suggested that she was welcome to break her neck for all I cared. This

was considerably more than I meant, but I don't like rude girls. I had

been introduced to her only the day before--at the round tea-table--and

she had barely acknowledged the introduction. I had not caught her name

but I had noticed her fine, arched eyebrows which, so the physiognomists

say, are a sign of courage.