And, as ever, he rejoiced in their gladness.
Lifting his magnificent head, he broke into a salvo of trumpeting barks; the oddly triumphant form of racket he reserved for great moments.
"What's Laddie doing ?" asked Cyril, from the threshold.

"He sounds as if he was going mad or something." "He's happy," answered the Mistress.
"Why's he happy ?" queried the child.
"Because his Master and I are happy," patiently returned the Mistress.
"Why are YOU happy ?" insisted Cyril.
"Because today is Thursday," put in the Master.

"And that means tomorrow will be Friday." "And on Friday," added the Mistress, "there's going to be a beautiful surprise for you, Cyril.

We can't tell you what it is, but--" "Why can't you tell me ?" urged the child.

"Aw, go ahead and tell me! I think you might." The Master had gone over to the nearest window; and was staring out into the gray-black dusk.