showed particular preference. Her whole interest, indeed, was
centred in a dog, a Scotch collie called Duncan. She allowed
this dog every liberty, and made a decided nuisance of him for
every one, around her. He always went with her when she
walked, or trotted beside her horse when she rode. He
stretched himself before the fire in the dining-room, and
startled people at table by placing his cold nose against
their hands or putting his paws on their gowns. He was
generally voted a most annoying adjunct to the Arnett
household; but no one, dared hint so to Miss Arnett, as she
only loved those who loved the dog or pretended to do it. On
the morning of the afternoon on which Van Bibber and his bag
arrived, the dog disappeared and could not be recovered. Van
Bibber found the household in a state of much excitement in
consequence, and his welcome was necessarily brief. The
arriving guest was not to be considered at all with the
departed dog. The men told Van Bibber, in confidence, that
the general relief among the guests was something ecstatic,
but this was marred later by the gloom of Miss Arnett and her
inability to think of anything else but the finding of the
lost collie. Things became so feverish that for the sake of
rest and peace the house-party proposed to contribute to a
joint purse for the return of the dog, as even, nuisance as it
was, it was not so bad as having their visit spoiled by Miss
Arnett's abandonment to grief and crossness.

"I think," said the young woman, after luncheon, "that
some of you men might be civil enough to offer to look for
him. I'm sure he can't have gone far, or, if he has been
stolen, the men who took him couldn't have gone very far away