"But I can't go, Caesar," Patricia told him. She was always sure that her
dumb friends understood quite well all she said to them. "There comes
Daddy now."
"It doesn't seem to be solitary confinement, Patricia," Dr. Kirby said,
as he came in and seated himself on the side of the bed.
Patricia stretched out a welcoming hand. "It's hours and hours since
I've seen you, Daddy."
Dr. Kirby took the outstretched hand gravely. "From your aunt's account,
there would appear to have been hours and hours in which she did not see
you, Patricia?"
"I'm afraid I was gone a long while, Daddy; but I came home just as soon
as I got things straightened out.
"Suppose you give me the particulars, Patricia."
And moving so as to rest her head on her father's knee, Patricia told
in detail the story of her day's experiences. She had the comforting
conviction that when Daddy knew all he would not be very displeased
with her.
More than once, during that recital, the doctor's mouth twitched under
his mustache, and he turned rather suddenly to look out of the window.
"But, Pat," he exclaimed, as she finished, "what made it so imperative
for you to find that tramp dog a home?"
Patricia's gray eyes were very earnest.
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