BRUNO 79 



one bed, I sat by the window trying to hurry 

 the dawn; wondering what Bruno was think- 

 ing, and how we should look, a party of people 

 clothed in evening array, returning home in 

 broad daylight. As if we had made a night of 

 it, surely ! I chuckled to myself as I compared 

 our plight with that of Cinderella. 



We met at breakfast in the hotel dining- 

 room, a queer-looking crowd. As we laughed 

 at each other's appearance, it was hard for each 

 to realize that he or she looked just as absurd ; 

 but an unprejudiced observer would have found 

 little to choose between us. As soon as the 

 meal was over, the three men started out to 

 find a way to get us all home again. Every- 

 thing seemed to conspire to delay us, and it 

 was half-past twelve at noon when we entered 

 our own gate, the click of the latch bringing 

 Bruno's face to the window with a series of 

 joyful barks. 



Poor fellow! His long confinement to the 

 house, his empty plate and bowl, his joyful 

 reception of us, and then his springing out to 

 dash round and round the lot, filled our hearts 

 with compassion. 



As soon as his first burst of enthusiasm was 

 over, he came in, and crept up to me with 



