"There will be no keeping thee away, and I have never ordered thee away
before. Why couldst thou not keep still? Nay, 'twas not dog nature."

That it was not so was plain by his struggles and the yelps but poorly
stifled by her grasp.

She put her hand about his little neck, turning, in sooth, very pale.

"Thou too, poor little beast," she said. "Thou too, who art so small a
thing and never harmed me."

When the lacquey came back he wore an air more timorous than before.

"Your ladyship," he faltered, "Sir John had not yet reached his lodgings.
His servant knew not when he might expect him."

"In an hour go again and wait," she commanded. "He must return ere long
if he has not left town."

And having said this, pointed to a little silken heap which lay
outstretched limp upon the floor. "'Tis poor Frisk, who has had some
strange spasm, and fell, striking his head. He hath been ailing for
days, and howled loudly but an hour ago. Take him away, poor beast."




CHAPTER XVII--Wherein his Grace of Osmonde's courier arrives from France