It was big for a dog, but it was also soft and warm. And slobbery, thought Ella, as the long, wet tongue licked her face. She laughed with delight and wiped her face in the deep fur behind its ears.
Behind her, Anastasia shrieked in disgust.
"Ew! He's giving you dog cooties!"
"He likes me," said Ella. "And there's no such thing as dog cooties."
"That's disgusting," said Drizella. "That thing is filthy. You're going to get in trouble again."
"And you'll get ticks and heartworm too," added Anastasia.
"I wonder where he came from," said Ella. "How did he get out here all alone?"
"You're going to be out here all alone if you don't leave him alone right now," said Drizella. "Mother would not approve."
Ella knew she was right, but stayed where she was. The dog flopped onto its back and Ella started rubbing its stomach.
"He's used to people, and he's gentle as anything. But you're right, Drizella, his fur is dirty and you can see his ribs. I bet he's hungry. Are you hungry, boy?"
The dog bayed mournfully.
"See? He's hungry. Were there any sandwiches left after lunch?"
"I ate the last sandwich," said Anastasia proudly.
"What about the melon?" pressed Ella.
"That's it," said Drizella. "Come on, Anastasia, we're going back. Ella can get herself in trouble, but she won't drag us down with her." Drizella turned and started walking back, Anastasia running to keep up.
"Oh, don't go, Drizella," called Ella. "Just a few more minutes!"
Drizella walked faster.
Ella sighed.
"They never listen to me anyway," she told the dog. "Drizella will tell on me when she gets back, so I need to go now, but if you come along, I'll try to get you something. Even if there aren't any more sandwiches, there's got to be something left from lunch."
The dog watched at her unblinkingly, and when she stood up, so did he. She took a few tentative steps away, and he followed, staying close to her side.
"All right then, that's settled. To lunch we go!"
"And she was touching it all over, and letting it lick her face! A wild dog! It probably has cooties."
Ella heard Anastasia's shrill voice as she approached from the far side of the hill, the dog still at her side.
"Girls, you did the right thing coming straight back," said Ella's stepmother's voice.
"I think you mean rabies, Anastasia," said Ella's father. "That's the infectious danger of approaching wild animals. But Ella knows rabies, she wouldn't go near a rabid creature."
"She would if she thought it looked lonely," said Drizella. "She gets distracted by everything. It's so tiresome."
Ella broke into a run as she rounded the top of the hill.
"Papa!" she cried. "Is there anything left from lunch?"
"Ho, Colonel! Now what have we here?" her father asked, kneeling down to examine the dog.
"He's hungry, Papa, and I promised him some lunch if there was any left."
"Yes, I see. Looks like it may have been a while since his last meal. Check in the basket, I think there's some watermelon left."
Ella started toward the large picnic basket, but was stopped by her stepmother.
"Hold on, Ella. Dear, you're not really going to let her give that mutt our lunch. It's a wild animal, for heaven's sake."
"He's hungry," replied Ella's father. "We've all eaten, the melon's only growing warm anyway."
"But what if we want more later? And we don't want that thing to come to think of us as a food source. We are not its keepers. It should have been left where it was found, I don't know what Ella was thinking bringing it back here."
"He's hungry-" Ella began.
"And filthy and wild and flea-ridden. We do not take strays as souvenirs."
"I didn't say I wanted to keep him," said Ella.
"If we feed him, he'll think we do, and then it will be impossible to get rid of him," said her stepmother firmly. "Now, it's getting late, we should be getting home. No arguing, please."
So Ella kept her rising protests to herself, even as she watched her father's pained expression as he turned away from the dog apologetically. She knew her stepmother hated to be contradicted, and she knew her father was trying very hard to please his new wife as she adjusted to life in the country. We must all make sacrifices, he had said when Mrs. Wollens complained of losing her day off to preparing a dinner party for Ella's stepmother at short notice, and again when Ella nagged him about spending more time on outings together. She had begged for this picnic for nearly two months, and was disappointed that her stepmother was ending it so soon, but she was determined not to complain.
She did, however, let a few large pieces of melon slip into the tall grass as she packed up the picnic basket. As they left, she glanced back long enough to confirm that the dog had found them and was happily gnawing away at the rinds.
"Ella! What do you think you're doing?"
Ella's head snapped up from her book, surprised and confused, to find her stepmother's narrowed eyes fixed on her from across the parlor. In the corner, Anastasia and Drizella looked up from their table game with interest.
"What do you mean? I'm reading," said Ella.
"You've been scratching," declared her stepmother, rising and crossing the room. She lifted one of Ella's arms and pushed back her sleeve to the elbow. She dropped it almost immediately, drawing back quickly.
"Flea bites!" she exclaimed. "Heavens, child, you've given yourself fleas! That ridiculous picnic!"
"That ridiculous dog, more like," said Drizella. "I told her this would happen."
"I said it first!" said Anastasia. "She didn't believe me, but I told her dog cooties were real! You were wrong, Ella, and I was right!"
"Fleas aren't cooties, stupid, they're fleas! I told her specifically—"
"Hush girls, young ladies do not squabble over fleas," interrupted Ella's stepmother. "Ella, get up at once, you mustn't infest anything more than you have already. Those clothes will have to be burned, and heaven knows what we'll do about the furniture. And the carriage! Whatever shall be done about the carriage?"
"Please," said Ella, "It's not that big of a deal, they're easy to—"
"Not that big of a deal? Ella, do kindly hold your tongue, as it is your foolishness that has brought fleas into this home in the first place. You've done quite enough for one day."
"But you just need to—"
"Silence!"
Time froze and Ella's eyes widened in sudden fear as her stepmother towered over her with one hand raised high. Still in the corner, Drizella and Anastasia watched the scene with bated breath.
Then the spell was broken by a knock at the door.
"Madam?" Mrs. Wollens stepped into the room uncertainly.
Ella's stepmother lowered her hand.
"Yes, what is it?" she asked tightly.
"Dinner is ready, Madam," said Mrs. Wollens.
"Thank you." Ella's stepmother turned to Mrs. Wollens, thrusting Ella towards the housekeeper roughly. "This one has fleas. Get rid of them, by whatever means necessary. Shave her head if need be."
"Oh I hardly think—"
"You do not need to think, I am telling you. And thoroughly disinfect everything she has touched since returning home. This room, the carriage, everything. And I want it done tonight, this cannot wait."
"Very well, Madam," said Mrs. Wollens. "Shall I take it dinner is to be delayed?"
"Why ever would that be? You say it is ready, so are we. We'll go in at once."
"But Ella—"
"Ella has more pressing concerns at the moment. And so do you. But that has nothing to do with our dinner. Now, not a minute to waste, off you go."
Ella tried to read the expression on Mrs. Wollens' face, but in the end the housekeeper merely bobbed a curtsy and led Ella out of the room.
"Off we go," she muttered under her breath.
"Ow! You're pulling," said Ella as Mrs. Wollens washed Ella's hair, all the while searching for stray fleas in it. So far her search had been in vain. Ella sat in the largest washbasin, now serving as a makeshift tub, in the middle of the kitchen.
"Sorry, love," said Mrs. Wollens. "I'm nearly done."
"You're not going to shave it, are you?" asked Ella.
"Of course not. Hot water's all it takes. Besides, your father would never forgive me if I did. It's why he first started calling you kernel when you were a mite, you know, that fine yellow corn silk hair of yours. And because you were such a tiny little thing in the beginning."
"I know," said Ella. She'd heard the story many times. "And then I got older and he found me trying to organize an army of ants to march in rows, like in the song, and it's been Colonel ever since."
"Yes indeed. Now, are you nearly done on your end? Because I'm just about finished here."
"Yes, I'm done."
"All right then, out you come."
Ella climbed out and quickly dried off, slipping into a clean nightgown. Mrs. Wollens began dragging the washbasin outside to dump in the garden. When she tried to open the door though, they heard a yelp from the other side.
Ella held her breath. Could it be?
"Oh, that had better not be what I think it is," said Mrs. Wollens. "We have enough to be getting on with tonight without any more surprises."
Ella reached around her and opened the top portion of the door.
"It's him!" she cried. "It's the dog from the field!"
"Now Ella," began Mrs. Wollens, "Don't be getting any ideas. Hasn't this creature caused enough trouble in this house today?"
But Ella had already opened the bottom of the door and was reacquainting herself with her new friend.
"Ella, you just got clean!" protested Mrs. Wollens.
"He must have followed us home!" said Ella happily. "I'm surprised I didn't see him, I was watching for him, hoping he might."
"Don't let your stepmother hear you saying that," said Mrs. Wollens. "That's a bloodhound though, he could follow you home a week after meeting you, his nose will be that good."
"Clever boy," said Ella, scratching behind his ears. Though she'd never admit it, Mrs. Wollens was sure the dog grinned a huge goofy doggy grin at Ella's praise.
"He is a friendly fellow, isn't he," conceded Mrs. Wollens.
"He is," agreed Ella. "I'm sure he comes from good people, it just seems he's been on his own for a while now."
"That's a shame, for such an amiable pup. And a valuable one too, if he's been trained at all for the hunt."
Ella looked at her sideways.
"Mrs. Wollens," she said carefully.
"Oh no," said Mrs. Wollens quickly. "Your stepmother would never allow it."
"I haven't asked anything yet," protested Ella.
"I'm answering you all the same. You're not going to be able to keep this dog. Not after it's given you fleas. Remember that?"
"Who said anything about keeping him? Let's just give him a bath, so he doesn't give the next person fleas. And some dinner. Please? It's the Christian thing to do."
Mrs. Wollens gave Ella a long look, sighing.
"All right," she said. "But this is your responsibility, understand? I need to take care of your flea clothes, and to do something about the parlor and the carriage to convince your stepmother they're safe for human habitation. And you'll do the bath out here in the garden, I'll not have you flooding my kitchen. As a matter of fact, the dog doesn't come inside the house at all, understand?"
"Oh thank you, Mrs. Wollens," cried Ella, rising and hugging her tightly.
"And one more thing," continued Mrs. Wollens. "You need to bathe again too, after the dog has had its turn. Just to be sure. Come and see me when you're done and I'll check your hair again to be sure."
"Yes Mrs. Wollens."
"And Ella? Try to keep it down out here. There's no need for anyone else to find out he's here tonight. That can wait till the morning."
Ella giggled. "Yes Mrs. Wollens. Stepmother won't hear us; we'll be quiet. Thank you."
Ella was true to her word. Mrs. Wollens didn't hear a peep from outside as she made a show of inspecting and wiping down the parlor room furniture. On her way out to the carriage house, she saw Ella and the dog sitting together on the kitchen step, sharing a plate of something in the dark.
They were still there when she returned to house, so she joined them, bringing a stool and a candle to check Ella's hair.
"How's he doing?" she asked.
"He's good," said Ella. "He ate most of the chicken I found, and some carrots too."
"And what about you?" asked Mrs. Wollens. "Did he leave enough for your dinner?"
"I'm good too," said Ella. "I ate."
"Good," said Mrs. Wollens.
"I want him to stay," said Ella suddenly. "I know Stepmother won't want him to, but I can't help it, I want him to stay. If he wants to, that is."
"I know," said Mrs. Wollens. "You could do with an ally, now with those stepsisters of yours. I don't think you'll need to worry about him wanting to stay here, it looks like you two have really hit it off. Your stepmother on the other hand, that'll be an uphill battle."
"I know," said Ella. "I've discovered what his name is though."
"Oh?" said Mrs. Wollens. "What's his name?"
"Bruno. Bruno the bloodhound."