Max seemed to feel that the responsibility of propriety rested upon him, and he sat with his head on Lois's knee, and his drowsy eyes blinking at Mr.Forsythe.His mistress pulled his silky ears gently, or knotted them behind his head, giving him a curiously astonished and grieved look, as though he felt she trifled with his dignity; yet he did not move his head, but watched, with no affection in his soft brown eyes, the young man who talked so eagerly to Lois.
"That brute hates me," said Mr.Forsythe, "and yet I took the trouble to bring him a biscuit to-day.

Talk of gratitude and affection in animals.
They don't know what it means!" "Max loves me," Lois answered, taking the setter's head between her hands.
"Ah, well, that's different," cried Forsythe; "of course he does.

I'd like to know how he could help it.

He wouldn't be fit to live, if he didn't." Lois raised the hand-screen she held, so that Dick could only see the curls about her forehead and one small curve of her ear.

"How hot the fire is!" she said.
Dr.Howe folded his newspaper with much crackling and widely opened arms.
"Don't sit so near it.