The Judge would follow as soon as he had written to his clients and expressed his regret that his clerk’s numerous social duties did not permit of his giving much time to his business.  And, the Judge added, as an afterthought, if Fido should die, it would not be necessary for Roger to return to the office.  He wanted someone who could be trusted not to poison his dog while he was out.

Roger was too much disturbed to be conscious of the ludicrous aspect he presented to the public eye as he went down the main thoroughfare of Riverdale, dragging the small cart which contained the slumbering Fido and his cushion.  He did not even hear the pointed comments made by the young of both sexes whom he encountered on his interminable walk, and forgot to thank the postmaster for the loan of the cart when he returned it, empty save for a fragment of cold chicken and a faint, doggy smell.

[Sidenote:  On the Beach]

For obvious reasons, he could not go to the office and he did not like to take his disturbing mood to Barbara.  Besides, his mother, who now had long wakeful periods in the daytime, might see him and ask unpleasant questions.  He went down to the beach, yearning for solitude, and settled himself in the shelter of a sand dune to meditate upon the unhappy events of the day.

He did not realise that the sand dune belonged to Eloise, and that she was wont to sit there with Doctor Conrad, out of the wind, and safely screened from the argus-eyed rocking-chairs on the veranda.  He was so preoccupied that he did not even hear the sound of their voices as they approached.  Turning the corner quickly, they almost stumbled over him.

“Upon my word,” cried Eloise.  “Sir Knight of the Dolorous Countenance, what has gone wrong?”

“Nothing,” answered Roger, miserably.

“Anybody dead?” queried Allan, lazily stretching himself upon the sand.

“Not yet, but somebody is dying.”

“Who?” demanded Eloise.  “Barbara, or your mother?  Who is it?”

“Fido,” said Roger hopelessly, staring out to sea.

Allan laughed, but Eloise returned, kindly:  “I didn’t know you had a dog.  I’m sorry.”

“He isn’t mine,” explained Roger; “I only wish he were.  If he had been,” he added, viciously, “he’d have died a violent death long ago.”

[Sidenote:  Miss Wynne’s Plans]

Little by little, the whole story came out.  Allan kept his face straight with difficulty, but Eloise was genuinely distressed.  “Don’t worry,” she said, sympathetically.  “If Fido dies and the Judge won’t take you back, I can probably find an opening for you in town.  Your office work will pay your expenses, so you can go to law school in the evenings and be ready for your examinations in the Spring.”

“Oh, Miss Wynne,” cried Roger.  “How good you are!  I don’t wonder Barbara calls you her Fairy Godmother.”

“Barbara is coming to town to spend the Winter with me,” Eloise went on, happily.  “She’s never had a good time and I’m going to give her one.  As soon as she’s strong enough, and can walk well, I’m going to take her, bag and baggage.  It’s all I’m waiting here for.”