Lad realized that, now;--now that it was all over and he could rest.

Rest! Yes, it was good to rest,--to be smoothed and crooned at.

It was thus the Mistress had stroked and crooned to him, so many thousand times.
And always Lad had loved it.
It was well to be at home and to be sinking so pleasantly to sleep; here at the Place he had guarded since before he could remember--the Place where he and the Mistress and the Master had had such splendid times; where he and his long-dead mate, Lady, had romped; where he had played with and trained his fiery little son, Wolf; and where every inch of the dear land was alive with wonderful memories to him.
He had had a full, happy, rich life.

And now, in its twilight, rest was as grateful as action once had been.
The morning air was warm and it was heavy with flower and field, scents; and with the breath of the forests where so often Lad had led the tearing run of the collie pack and in whose snowy depths he once had fought for his life against Wolf and the huge crossbreed, Rex.

That was ever so long ago.
The Mistress and the Master were coming home.