scrimmaging over the house, and it's the ruination of the furniture-
-"

"The dog is not to be tied up," I interrupted.

"Have him let loose at once, and in future remember, if he comes in
wet and muddy, and chooses to lie on the drawing-room couch, let
him."

The man disappeared, and I walked over to the hearth.

A minute or two later there was a scratching and whining outside the
door, and I went to it and let Nous in.

He bounded over me, licked my face furiously, and scratched
enthusiastically at my shirt front.

He was wet, and his fur laden with mud, as the butler had said, and
my clothes suffered from his demonstrativeness, but his feelings
were of more import than a dress-coat, and I would not have hurt
them by checking his greeting.

"Dear old boy," I said, taking the collar off with which he had been
chained up,--and just then my father came into the room.

"Ah, got back, Victor?"

"Yes," I said, looking up.

"They've rejected your last, eh?" he said at once.