"
Something about Cecily's speech--or the wistful look that had
crept into her sweet brown eyes--made me feel vaguely
uncomfortable; I was glad that we were at the end of our journey,
with Mr. Campbell's big house before us, and his dog sitting
gravely at the veranda steps.
"Oh, dear," said Cecily, with a shiver, "I'd been hoping that dog
wouldn't be around."
"He never bites," I assured her.
"Perhaps he doesn't, but he always looks as if he was going to,"
rejoined Cecily.
The dog continued to look, and, as we edged gingerly past him and
up the veranda steps, he turned his head and kept on looking.
What with Mr. Campbell before us and the dog behind, Cecily was
trembling with nervousness; but perhaps it was as well that the
dour brute was there, else I verily believe she would have turned
and fled shamelessly when we heard steps in the hall.
It was Mr. Campbell's housekeeper who came to the door, however;
she ushered us pleasantly into the sitting-room where Mr. Campbell
was reading. He laid down his book with a slight frown and said
nothing at all in response to our timid "good afternoon." But
after we had sat for a few minutes in wretched silence, wishing
ourselves a thousand miles away, he said, with a chuckle,
"Well, is it the school library again?"
Cecily had remarked as we were coming that what she dreaded most
of all was introducing the subject; but Mr.
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