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The discussion for the remainder of dinner was mostly political, and Jane–as was generally the case when she chose to be serious–showed herself to be a remarkably well-informed and intelligent young woman.

“I’ve no chance; she’s too good for me,” said Richard to himself–by no means for the first time–as he looked at her and listened to her with admiration.

Jane had just left the two men to their cigars when a servant entered with a card for Mr Murray.

“Where have you put him?” he asked the man.

“The gentleman is in the library, sir.”

“Good! Say I’ll be with him directly. Awfully sorry, Staines; this is a chap from Sidlington, and rather an important old cock down there.”

“Go to him, of course. That’s all right.”

“I’m afraid I must. But here’s the port and here’s the cigars. When you get tired of solitude, you’ll find Jane in the drawing-room. Smoking’s allowed there, you know.”

Staines got tired of solitude very soon. In the drawing-room, the conversation between Jane and himself took a new note of earnestness and intimacy. Zero slept placidly through it all.

An hour later Mr Murray came back to the drawing-room with the news of Benham’s death. He in return received, with goodwill and no surprise, the news that a marriage bad been arranged, and would shortly take place, between his daughter and Richard Staines.

CHAPTER IV

During the engagement, which was brief, Zero found that two people–of whom his master was one–had very little time to talk to him; but he was not absolutely forgotten.

“What are we to do with Zero while we’re away?” asked Richard.

“Could we take him with us?” asked Miss Murray.

“I don’t think so,” said Richard. “There would be bother at these foreign hotels; and there’s the quarantine to think about.”

“Suppose I said that if Zero didn’t go, I wouldn’t go either?”

“Quite simple. In that case, I should go alone.”

And then they both laughed, being somewhat easily pleased at that time. Zero was offered to Mr Murray temporarily as an election mascot, but Mr Murray was not taking any risks–one of his principal supporters had a favourite collie. Finally, it was decided that Zero should pay a visit to his former master, Smith, until his master returned. He made one brief appearance at the wedding reception, where his supreme but honest ugliness conquered the heart of every nice woman present. He refused champagne, foie-gras sandwiches, and vanilla ices offered to him by the enthusiastic and indiscreet. However, he managed to find Jane, and Jane found bread-and-butter until word was brought that a person of the name of Smith had called for the dog.

“Bit fat, you are,” said Smith, as he ripped the white rosette off the dog’s collar. “Been doing yourself too well. Ah, now you’re going to live healthy!”

Smith was as good as his word. Zero was sufficiently and properly fed, and given plenty of exercise. He mixed with some very aristocratic canine society, where the sweetness of his temper was much commended and imposed upon. After two months his master called for him, and Zero once more behaved like an ecstatic bullock.

“Yes,” said Smith, “he’s in good condition, as you say. Otherwise, he’s not much changed. He’s as big a fool as ever he was. If a toy Pom growls at him, he runs away; and if a collie tries to get past him alive–well, it can’t. He’d tear the throat out of any man as struck you, and if the cat next door spits at him he goes and hides in the rhubarb.”

“Seen any more of that wonderful instinct of his?”

“No, sir, I have not. But I should have done if there had been any occasion for it. It’s a fact that I never feel so safe as I do when I’ve got that dog here. Don’t you believe in it yourself, sir?”

“Sometimes I do–Mrs Staines does absolutely. If there’s nothing in it, then there has been the most extraordinary lot of coincidences I ever came across.”