The curtain was drawn aside, and the company shouted with
delight. No picture had been so good yet as this one. The
little grave figure, the helmet with its nodding plumes in
mock stateliness; the attitude, one finger just resting on the
pedestal of the broken column (an ottoman did duty for it), as
if to show that Fortitude stood alone, and the shaggy St.
Bernard at her feet, all made in truth an extremely pretty
spectacle. You could see the faintest tinge of a smile of
pleasure on the lips of both Mr. and Mrs. Randolph; they were
silent, but all the rest of the people cheered and openly
declared their delight. Daisy stood like a rock. _Her_ mouth
never gave way; not even when Dolce, conceiving that all this
cheering called upon him to do something, rose up and, looking
right into Daisy's face, wagged his tail in the blandest
manner of congratulation. Daisy did not wince; and an
energetic "Down, Dolce, down!" brought the St. Bernard to his
position again, in the very meekness of strength; and then the
people clapped for Daisy and the dog together. At last the
curtain fell.
"Well, that will do," said Mrs. Sandford.
"Dolce — you rascal!" said Preston, as the great creature was
now wagging his tail in honour of his master, "how came you to
forget your business in that style, sir?"
"I do not think it really hindered the effect at all,
Preston," said Mrs.
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