than ordinarily upset by the hot weather, till one day at the
Club a man said: "That dog of yours will die in a week or two.
He's a shadow." Then I dosed Garin with iron and quinine, which
he hated; and I felt very anxious. He lost his appetite, and
Vixen was allowed to eat his dinner under his eyes. Even that did
not make him swallow, and we held a consultation on him, of the
best man-doctor in the place; a lady-doctor, who cured the sick
wives of kings; and the Deputy Inspector-General of the
veterinary service of all India. They pronounced upon his
symptoms, and I told them his story, and Garm lay on a sofa
licking my hand.

"He's dying of a broken heart," said the lady-doctor suddenly.

"'Pon my word," said the Deputy Inspector General, "I believe
Mrs. Macrae is perfectly right as usual."

The best man-doctor in the place wrote a prescription, and the
veterinary Deputy Inspector-General went over it afterwards to be
sure that the drugs were in the proper dog-proportions; and that
was the first time in his life that our doctor ever allowed his
prescriptions to be edited. It was a strong tonic, and it put the
dear boy on his feet for a week or two; then he lost flesh again.
I asked a man I knew to take him up to the Hills with him when he
went, and the man came to the door with his kit packed on the top
of the carriage. Garin took in the situation at one red glance.
The hair rose along his back; he sat down in front of me and
delivered the most awful growl I have ever heard in the jaws of a
dog. I shouted to my friend to get away at once, and as soon as
the carriage was out of the garden Garin laid his head on my knee