the lives not only of a dog and a curate, but of the entire Cole
family, and through them, of endless generations both of dogs and
men as yet unborn. Miss Maple, sitting in her little yellow-
curtained parlour drinking, in jaundiced contentment, her
afternoon's cup of tea, was, of course, unaware of this. A good
thing that she was unaware - she was quite conceited enough already.




IV


After that smiling judgment of Mrs. Cole's, affairs were quickly
settled.

"Of course it can only be for the night, children. Father will
arrange something in the morning. Poor little thing. Where did you
find him?"

"We saw him from the window," said Jeremy quickly, "and he was
shivering like anything, so we called him in to warm him."

"My dear Alice, you surely don't mean--" began Aunt Amy, and the
Jampot said: "I really think, Mum-," and Mr. Jellybrand, in his rich
voice, murmured: "Is it quite wise, dear Mrs. Cole, do you think?"

With thoughts of Miss Maple she smiled upon them all.

"Oh, for one night, I think we can manage. He seems a clean little