Whenever she could steal a minute of time, away from her father's glum eyes and nagging voice and ready fist, she would seek out Lad.
She was as gentle with the grand old dog as other children had been rough.

She loved to cuddle down close beside him, her arms around his shaggy neck; and croon queer little high-voiced songs to him; her thin cheek against his head.

She used to save out fragments from her own sparse lunch to give to him.

She was inordinately proud to walk at his side during Lad's rare rambles around the Place.

Child and dog made a pretty picture of utter chumship.
To nobody save the Mistress and the Master had Laddie ever given his heart so completely as to this baby.
Hurried though she was, today, Sonya set down her basket of peaches and, with a shy glance of appeal at the two humans, reached across the veranda edge to stroke Lad's head and to accept in delight his proffered paw.