him outside when he wanted to be with me?"

"You could have done so because it would have been right," said Mrs.
Enderby. "You knew that Mr. Enderby had refused to allow the dog to come
here. You ought to have remembered his wishes. He has been very good to
you, and you must learn to obey him."

"It is cruel of him not to let me have Scamp," persisted Hetty; "he
never bites anyone, and he is better than the other dogs. Why can I not
have him for my own?"

"I will not answer that question, Hetty; it must be enough for you that
you are to obey. You must stay here by yourself till you are in a better
state of mind."

Then Mrs. Enderby went away, and Hetty fell into another agony of grief,
thinking about Scamp.

She forgot the breakfast which she had not yet tasted, and felt every
moment a greater longing to see her dog again. Where had they taken him?
she wondered. Was he still in the stable-yard? Perhaps they would drown
him to get rid of him. Possessed by this fear she seized her hat and
flew out of the room, quite reckless of consequences, and as it chanced,
she met no one on her way down-stairs and along all the back passages
leading towards the stable-yard.

Arrived there she was guided by his barking to the spot where Scamp was.
He was chained in a kennel in a corner of the yard, where it was
intended he should remain till a new master or mistress could be found
for him. Hetty watched her opportunity, and when there was no one about