gently thumping the door-mat as though feeling its way cautiously. The head was downcast, but the mistress might have noticed, had she looked sharply, that the bright eyes were watching her narrowly.
The whole attitude was apologetic, as though he excused himself for being there at that time of day, and looking so bedraggled.
"Good-morning, Mr. Dog," said the mistress cheerily.
The stump of the tail began thumping the mat more quickly and with greater determination, and the bright, quizzical face was turned up inquiringly.
"Please, lady," it seemed to be saying, "I am cold and hungry. The world outside is a great lonesome place, and it looks very inviting inside your house."
The mistress read the dog thought