square near the bookseller's shop was hit by a bomb. The admiral continued to point an outstretched finger towards the station, but the bookseller cleared out. Germaine followed him regretfully.

As she was unable to take her dog Dick—a horrid mongrel, half-poodle and half-spaniel—Dundas gravely consented to look after him. He loved dogs with a sentimental warmth which he denied to men. Their ideas interested him, their philosophy was the same as his, and he used to talk to them for hours at a time like a nurse to her children.

The general and Colonel Parker were not a bit astonished when he introduced Dick into the mess. They had found fault with him for falling in love, but they approved of his adopting a dog.

Dick, an Abbeville guttersnipe, was therefore admitted to the refinements of the general's table. He remained, however, a rough son of the people, and barked when Private Brommit appeared with the meat.

"Behave yourself, sir," Dundas said to him, genuinely shocked, "behave yourself. A well-brought-up dog never,

never does that. A good dog never barks indoors, never, never, never."

Germaine's pet was offended and disappeared for three days. The orderlies reported he had been seen in the country in doubtful company. At last he returned, cheerful and unkempt, with one ear torn and one eye bleeding, and asked to be let in by barking merrily.

"You're a very naughty dog, sir," said Dundas as he nursed him adroitly, "a very, very bad little dog indeed."

Whereupon he turned towards the general.

"I'm very much afraid, sir," he said, "that this fellow Dick is not quite a gentleman."

"He's a French dog," replied General Bramble with sorrowful forbearance.