“Oh, I beg your pahdon!” she cried, blushing still more.  From the twinkle in his eye she was sure that he had witnessed her mortifying encounter with the musical chair.  But his first words made her forget her embarrassment.  He spoke in the best of English, but with a slight accent that Lloyd thought very odd and charming.

“Ah, it is Mr. Sherman’s little daughter.  He told me last night that you had come to Switzerland because it was a land of heroes, and he was sure that you would be especially interested in mine.  So come, Hero, my brave fellow, and be presented to the little American lady.  Give her your paw, sir!”

He stepped aside to let the great creature past him, and Lloyd uttered an exclamation of delight, he was so unusually large and beautiful.  His curly coat of tawny yellow was as soft as silk, and a great ruff of white circled his neck like a collar.  His breast was white, too, and his paws, and his eyes had a wistful, human look that went straight to Lloyd’s heart.  She shook the offered paw, and then impulsively threw her arms around his neck, exclaiming, “Oh, you deah old fellow!  I can’t help lovin’ you.  You’re the beautifulest dog I evah saw!”

He understood the caress, if not the words, for he reached up to touch her cheek with his tongue, and wagged his tail as if he were welcoming a long-lost friend.  Just then Mrs. Sherman stepped out of the elevator.  “Good-bye, Hero,” said the Little Colonel.  “I must go now, but I hope I’ll see you when I come back.”  Nodding good-bye to the Major, she followed her mother out to the street, where her father stood waiting beside an open carriage.

Lloyd enjoyed the drive that morning as they spun along beside the river, up and down the strange streets with the queer foreign signs over the shop doors.  Once, as they drove along the quay, they met the Major and the dog, and in response to a courtly bow, the Little Colonel waved her hand and smiled.  The empty sleeve recalled her grandfather, and gave her a friendly feeling for the old soldier.  She looked back at Hero as long as she could see a glimpse of his white and yellow curls.

It was nearly noon when they stopped at a place where Mrs. Sherman wanted to leave an enamelled belt-buckle to be repaired.  Lloyd was not interested in the show-cases, and could not understand the conversation her father and mother were having with the shopkeeper about enamelling.  So, saying that she would go out and sit in the carriage until they were ready to come, she slipped away.

She liked to watch the stir of the streets.  It was interesting to guess what the foreign signs meant, and to listen to the strange speech around her.  Besides, there was a band playing somewhere down the street, and children were tugging at their nurses’ hands to hurry them along.  Some carried dolls dressed in the quaint costumes of Swiss peasants, and some had balloons.  A man with a bunch of them like a cluster of great red bubbles, had just sold out on the corner.