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"We've been to call on your respective mother and sister," declared Connie, "and were desolated not to find the little ladies. What luck to meet you! Max, you don't need an introduction, do you, after playing Lord Lochinvar with both girlsat once?" At this sweeping characterization, they all laughed and walked along together, Tylo galloping ahead or falling behind as his sweet will led.
As Frances passed the entrance to the sunken garden, her basket filled this time by solid-looking pieces of cake, she heard her name. "Fran," came Win's voice, "call Tylo. Get him to come out on the lawn." Frances called. She could see no one in the garden, only hear amused voices trying to induce Tylo to answer the summons. "He won't start," said Win again.
Before they had gone more than a quarter of a mile, a pretty young lady came up. "I'm afraid my bad Tylo has been bothering you," she said apologetically. "He is forever coming on the sands and badgering people into playing with him." "Oh, we liked to play," said Frances, smiling. "I think he's a brick. What did you call him?" "Tylo," replied the young lady.
"There are many delightful excursions to make in the island," said the young lady. "Come along, Tylo. We must go home to tea. Oh," she added to the girls, "when you go on picnics, don't forget to look for caves." With another smile and a charming little nod, she left them. "I wonder who she is," said Frances, frankly looking after her.
Pierre carried a rope and crowbar, unusual implements for a gardener's assistant. Win watched him idly down the laurel-bordered drive and then went into the library, followed by Tylo, who seemed depressed in the absence of his mistress.
If we want an animal to prance on its hind legs, and, with the over-faithful Tylo, cry out, "little god, little god," at every blundering step we take; if we are so constituted that we feel the need of being worshipped by something or somebody, we must feed our vanity as best we can with the society of dogs and men.
Whenever they went out, the girls kept a close watch for the "collie lady" and the "beach dog." Twice Tylo came to hail them on the sands, once apparently entirely alone. The other time he merely greeted them and bounded away to rejoin two riders on the road. One was his lady, her companion a slender young man of distinctly foreign aspect, dark and distinguished-looking.
Constance looked after him suspiciously, but Max was already half across the sunken garden, whistling to Tylo as he went. "Are we too early, Miss Connie?" asked Frances as they came up. "Just on the dot," replied Connie, greeting them all. "The children are arriving. We will play games first and then have tea. Excuse me, please, while I go and speak to the Reverend Fred."
"Ask Miss Connie to whistle for him, Fran." On receiving Fran's message, Constance looked puzzled. "I'd as soon Tylo would stop away," she said. "The kiddies may not fancy him begging for their cake. Still, I'll call." At the summons from his mistress, Tylo instantly came, causing a sudden silence among the chattering children, silence succeeded by wild shrieks of pleasure.
Connie, too, gave an exclamation of laughter. "Oh, look at my best Paris brelly!" she groaned. "Max stole that. Yvonne never gave it to him." Fully conscious that he held the center of the stage, Tylo advanced, waving his tail and casting amiable glances upon the children as they came crowding around, buns and cake forgotten.
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