It was incessantly intruding itself upon my notice, sometimes on the roof of the house, sometimes jumping from a window-ledge; now perched upon a paling, now climbing the pillars of the verandah; and always looking clean and white and pretty, with a bit of blue ribbon which Lily had tied round its neck, as if on purpose to provoke me. Even when I did not see it, I heard it mew; and when I did not hear it, I thought about it.

I was miserable. To be sure I had no right to expect Lily to like nobody but me, and I had nothing to complain of; every pleasure and comfort in life was mine. Indeed, I think a real grievance would have been rather pleasant to me. I should have liked an injustice. I was determined to sulk, and should have been glad to have something to sulk at. But no; people would persevere in being kind to me. I might be as ill-tempered as I pleased; nobody punished, or even scolded me; and whenever I chose to be in good humour, my friends were always ready to meet me half-way. Indeed, I never was quite sure whether they noticed my ill-temper or not. But I did not try to come round, though certainly sulking did not conduce to my comfort. I once heard my master remark, in reference to some disagreeable human being, that ill-tempered people made themselves more unhappy than they made others; so I suppose sulking does not always agree even with men; I know it does not with dogs. It was a wretched time.

I continued to brood over my imaginary grievances, little thinking how soon they would be exchanged for real troubles. I had been discontented while every enjoyment was at my command, and now I was to wish in vain for the happiness I had neglected. And yet, in the point which I considered most important, I had my own way. I one day thought that if I were never again to see Lily caressing that kitten, I should be quite happy. I never again saw Lily caressing the kitten, and from that day my real sorrows began.

There was a bustle in the house. Every thing seemed in confusion. Every body was doing something different from usual. Furniture and trunks were carried up and down stairs. My master's study was full of great chests; and he and Lily, instead of reading the books, spent all their time in hiding them in these chests. Next, my friend John came and nailed covers on the chests. After the first was nailed down, I jumped upon it, and sat watching John while he hammered the others; switching my tail, and winking my eyes at every stroke of his hammer, rather surprised at all that went on, but yet liking the bustle.

"Ah, poor old boy," said John, "I wonder how you'll take it."

"Take what?" thought I, and wondered too.

One day, John and another man went out with the horses, each riding on one and leading another. Thinking they were going to exercise them, I followed as I often did; but when we came to the end of the village John ordered me home, saying, "Good bye, Captain. Don't forget us, old fellow." I returned according to his command, but felt very much puzzled, as John had never before sent me home.

On arriving at the house, a waggon was standing at the door, piled up to a great height with chests and packages; and on the top of all was perched an ugly cur, barking as if he considered himself the master of everything. I was willing to make a civil acquaintance with him, but the little mongrel had the audacity to bark at me,—me in my own dominions! I did not think he was worth touching, besides which, I could not get at him; but I growled fiercely; and his master, who was loading the waggon, desired me to "get out of the way."

Thus rejected on all sides, I betook myself to the court, and rolled myself round in the straw of my own kennel, where nobody could affront me. There I remained till I heard Lily's sweet voice at a distance calling, "Captain, Captain!" I bounded forth once more at the sound, and met my pretty mistress in her walking dress, with the basket in her hand which I had so often carried. But she did not invite me to accompany her. "Poor Captain," said she, "I am come to bid you good bye. I am afraid you will miss us sadly; but I hope they will take good care of you. Good bye, best of dogs."

"Come, Lily, make haste," I heard my master call from the gate, and Lily and I ran towards him. He was standing by a carriage, with the door open and the steps let down. The gardener and his wife were near; he with his hat in his hand, and she wiping her eyes with the corner of her apron. Lily jumped into the carriage, her papa followed her; the gardener wished them a pleasant journey, "and a happy return," added his wife, and they drove off, Lily keeping her head at the window, and kissing her hand to us till she was out of sight.

At first I had no idea that they were not coming back. Though I heard the gardener say that they were "gone for good," it did not occur to me that that meant harm to us. They often went out for a day and returned in the evening; so at the usual time I expected their ring at the bell, and went to the gate to meet them. But no bell rang; no carriage drove up; no sound of horses' hoofs was to be heard in the distance, though I listened till the gardener came to lock up for the night, and ordered me to the court, where it was my business to keep guard.

Next morning there was a strange stillness and idleness. No master taking his early walk over the grounds. No Lily gathering her flowers before breakfast. No John to open the stable door, and let me in to bark good morning to the horses. No horses; a boy sweeping the deserted stable, and rack and manger empty. No carriage; the coach-house filled with lumber, and the shutters closed in the loft. No servants about. I rather congratulated myself upon the disappearance of Lily's maid, who had a habit of making uncivil speeches if I crossed her path in running to meet Lily. That maid and I had never been friends since I once had the misfortune to shake myself near her when coming out of the water. I confess I did wet her, and I did dirty her; but I did not know that water would hurt her coat,—it never hurt mine; and she need not have borne malice for ever; I should have forgiven her long ago if she had dirtied me. But whenever she saw me she took the opportunity of saying something mortifying, as, "Out of the way; don't come nigh me with that great mop of yours!" or, "Get along with you! I wonder what Miss Lily can see to like in such a great lumbering brute." I kept out of her way as much as I could, and it was now some consolation that she did not come in mine.

But it was a dull day. In due time the gardener's wife called, and gave me my breakfast, setting it down outside the kitchen door. It was a comfortable breakfast, for she was a good-natured woman, not likely to neglect Lily's charge to take care of me. I wagged my tail, and looked up in her face to thank her, but she was already gone without taking farther notice of me. She had done her work of giving me the necessaries of life, and my feelings were nothing to her. How I remembered my pretty Lily, and wished for her pleasant welcome.

After breakfast I went on an expedition to the flower-garden, thinking I might have a chance of finding some trace of my mistress in that favourite haunt. The gate was shut, but I heard steps, and scratched to be let in. I scratched and whined for some time; Lily would not have kept me half so long. At last the gardener looked over the top of the gate:

"Oh, it's you," said he; "I thought so. But you had best go and amuse yourself in places proper for you; you are not coming to walk over my flowerbeds any more."

He did not speak unkindly, and I had often heard him tell Lily that I was "best out of the