Katie’s arm about her tightened.

“I could have stood it for myself.  I could have stood my own lonesomeness.  But what I couldn’t stand was thinking about him.  Nights I would wake up and think of him—­out in the cold—­homesick—­maybe hungry—­not understanding—­watching and waiting—­wondering why I didn’t come.  I couldn’t keep from thinking about things that tortured me.  This man was a deacon in my father’s church.  From the way he prayed, I knew he was not one to be good to dogs.

“And then one afternoon I heard the little familiar scratch at the door.  I rushed to it, and there he was—­shivering—­but oh so, so glad!  He sprang right into my arms—­we cried and cried together—­sitting there on the floor.  His heart had been almost broken—­he had grieved—­suffered.  He wasn’t willing to leave my arms; just whimpering the way one does when a dreadful thing is over—­licking my face—­you know how they do—­you know how dear they are.

“Now I will tell you what I did.  Holding him in my arms, my face buried in his fur—­I made up my mind.  The family would be away for at least an hour.  I would give him the happiest hour I knew how to give him.  One hour—­it was all I had the power to give him.  Then—­because I loved him so much—­I would end his life.”

Katie’s face whitened.  “I carried out the plan,” Ann went on.  “I gave him the meat we were to have had for supper.  I had him do all his little tricks.  I loved him and loved him.  I do not think any little dog ever had a happier hour.

“And then—­down at a house in the next block I saw my father—­and the man he had given Tono to.  The man was coming to our house for supper.  Our time was up.

“I can never explain to any one the way I did it—­the way I felt as I did it.  There was no crying.  There was no faltering.  It seemed that all at once I understood—­understood the hardness of life—­that things are hard—­that things have got to be done.  Then was when it came to me that you’ve got to harden yourself—­that it’s the only way.

“I filled a tub with water—­I didn’t know any other way to do it.  Tono stood there watching me.  I took a bucket.  I took up the dog.  I hugged him.  I let him lick my face.  Though I live to be very old, Katie, and suffer very much, I can never forget the look in his eyes as I put him in the water and held him to put down the bucket.  There are things a person goes through that make perfect happiness forever impossible.  There are hours that stay.”

The face of the soldier’s daughter was wet.  “I love you for it, Ann,” she whispered.  “I love you for it.  It was strong, Ann.  It was fine.”

“I wasn’t very strong and fine the minute it was over,” sobbed Ann.  “I fainted.  They found me there.  And then I screamed and laughed and said I was going to kill all the dogs in the world.  I said—­oh, dreadful things.”

“They should have understood,” murmured Kate.