He wagged his tail to show he had no hard feelings but no blandishments availed to budge him.
"Guess Monday has made up his mind to wait there till Jem comes back," said Shirley, trying to laugh as he rejoined the rest.

This was exactly what Dog Monday had done.

His dear master had gone--he, Monday, had been deliberately and of malice aforethought prevented from going with him by a demon disguised in the garb of a Methodist minister.
Wherefore, he, Monday, would wait there until the smoking, snorting monster, which had carried his hero off, carried him back.
Ay, wait there, little faithful dog with the soft, wistful, puzzled eyes.

But it will be many a long bitter day before your boyish comrade comes back to you.
The doctor was away on a case that night and Susan stalked into Mrs.
Blythe's room on her way to bed to see if her adored Mrs.Dr.dear were "comfortable and composed." She paused solemnly at the foot of the bed and solemnly declared, "Mrs.Dr.dear, I have made up my mind to be a heroine." "Mrs.Dr.dear" found herself violently inclined to laugh--which was manifestly unfair, since she had not laughed when Rilla had announced a similar heroic determination.

To be sure, Rilla was a slim, white-robed thing, with a flower-like face and starry young eyes aglow with feeling; whereas Susan was arrayed in a grey flannel nightgown of strait simplicity, and had a strip of red woollen worsted tied around her grey hair as a charm against neuralgia.