humans who had so amusedly watched their encounter.

"See!" exclaimed the Mistress, in triumph. "Lad has accepted her.
He vouches for her. That ought to be enough for any one!"

Thus it was that Lass found a home.

As she never yet had been taught to know her name, she learned
readily to respond to the title of "Princess." And for several
months life went on evenly and happily for her.

Indeed, life was always wondrous pleasant, there at The Place,--
for humans and for animals alike. A fire-blue lake bordered the
grounds on two sides. Behind stretched the forest. And on every
side arose the soft green mountains, hemming in and brooding over
The Place as though they loved it. In the winter evenings there
was the huge library hearth with its blaze and warmth; and a
disreputable fur rug in front of it that might have been ordained
expressly for tired dogs to drowse on. And there were the
Mistress and the Master. Especially the Mistress! The Mistress
somehow had a way of making all the world seem worth while.

Then, of a morning, when Lass was just eleven months old, two
things happened.

The Mistress and the Master went down to her kennel after
breakfast. Lass did not run forth to greet them as usual. She lay
still, wagging her tail in feeble welcome as they drew near. But
she did not get up.