NEXT morning there were lessons again - and no Timothy, under the table! George felt very much inclined to refuse to work, but what would be the good of that? Grown-ups were so powerful, and could dole out all kinds of punishments. She didn't care how much she was punished herself but she couldn't bear to think that Timothy might have to share in the punishments too.
 So, pale and sullen, the little girl sat down at the table with the others. Anne was eager to join in the lessons - in, fact she was eager to do anything to please Mr. Roland, because he had given her the fairy doll from the top of the Christmas tree! Anne thought she was the prettiest doll she had ever seen.
 George had scowled at the doll when Anne showed it to her. She didn't like dolls, and she certainly wasn't going to like one that Mr. Roland had chosen, and given to Anne! But Anne loved it, and had made up her mind to do lessons with the others, and work as well as she could.
 George did as little as she could without getting into trouble. Mr. Roland took no interest in her or in her work. He praised the others, and took a lot of trouble' to show Julian something he found difficult.
 The children heard Tim whining outside as they worked. This troubled them very much, for Timothy was such a companion, and so dear to them all. They could not bear to think of him left out of everything, cold and miserable in the yard-kennel. When the ten minutes' break came, and Mr. Roland went out of the room for a few minutes, Julian spoke to George.
 'George! It's awful for us to hear poor old Tim whining out there in the cold. And I'm sure I heard him cough. Let me speak to Mr. Roland about him. You must feel simply dreadful knowing that Tim is out there.'
 'I thought I heard him cough, too,' said George, looking worried. 'I hope he won't get a cold. He simply doesn't understand why I have to put him there. He thinks I'm terribly unkind.'
 The little girl turned her head away, afraid that tears might come into her eyes. She always boasted that she never cried - but it was very difficult to keep the tears away when she thought of Timothy out there in the cold.
 Dick took her arm. 'Listen, George - you just hate Mr. Roland, and I suppose you can't help it. But we can none of us bear Timothy being out there all alone - and it looks like snow today, which would be awful for him. Could you be awfully, awfully good today, and forget your dislike, so that when your father asks Mr. Roland for your report, he can say you were very good - and then we'll all ask Mr. Roland if he wouldn't let Timmy come back into the house.'
 Timothy coughed again, out in the yard, and George's heart went cold. Suppose he got that awful illness called pneumonia - and she couldn't nurse him because he had to live in the kennel? She would die of unhappiness! She turned to Julian and Dick.
 'All right,' she said. 'I do hate Mr. Roland - but I love Timothy more than I hate the tutor - so for Tim's sake I'll pretend to be good and sweet and hard-working. And then you can beg him to let Timothy come back.'
 'Good girl!' said Julian. 'Now here he comes - so do your best.'
 To the tutor's enormous surprise, George gave him a smile when he came into the room. This was so unexpected that it puzzled him. He was even more puzzled to find that George worked harder than anyone for the rest of the morning, and she answered politely and cheerfully when he spoke to her. He gave her a word of praise.
 'Well done, Georgina! I can see you've got brains.'
 'Thank you," said George, and gave him another smile - a very watery, poor affair, compared with the happy smiles the others had been used to - but still, it was a smile!
 At dinner-time George looked after Mr. Roland most politely - passed him the salt, offered him more bread, got up to fill his glass when it was empty! The others looked at her in admiration. George had plenty of pluck. She must be finding it very difficult to behave as if Mr. Roland was a great friend, when she really disliked him so much!
 Mr. Roland seemed very pleased, and appeared to be quite willing to respond to George's friendliness. He made a little joke with her, and offered to lend her a book he had about a dog. George's mother was delighted to find that her difficult daughter seemed to be turning over a new leaf. Altogether things were very much happier that day.
 'George, you go out of the room before your father comes in to ask Mr. Roland about your behaviour tonight,' said Julian. 'Then, when the tutor gives you a splendid report, we will all ask if Timothy can come back. It will be easier if you are not there.'
 'All right,' said George. She was longing for this difficult day to be over. It was very hard for her to pretend to be friendly, when she was not. She could never never do it, if it wasn't for Timothy's sake!
 George disappeared out of the room just before six o'clock, when she heard her father coming. He walked into the room and nodded to Mr. Roland.
 'Well? Have your pupils worked well today?' he asked.
 'Very well indeed,' said Mr. Roland. 'Julian has really mastered something he didn't understand today. Dick has done well in Latin. Anne has written out a French exercise without a single mistake!'
 'And what about George?' asked Uncle Quentin.
 'I was coming to Georgina,' said Mr. Roland, looking round and seeing that she was gone. 'She has worked better than anyone else today! I am really pleased with her. She has tried hard - and she has really been polite and friendly. I feel she is trying to turn over a new leaf.'
 'She's been a brick today,' said Julian, warmly. 'Uncle Quentin, she has tried awfully hard, she really has. And, you know, she's terribly unhappy.'
 'Why?' asked Uncle Quentin in surprise.
 'Because of Timothy,' said Julian. 'He's out in the cold, you see. And he's got a dreadful cough.'
 'Oh, Uncle Quentin, please do let poor Timmy come indoors,' begged Anne.
 'Yes, please do,' said Dick. 'Not only for George's sake, because she loves him so, but for us too. We hate to hear him whining outside. And George does deserve a reward, Uncle - she's been marvellous today.'
 'Well,' said Uncle Quentin, looking doubtfully at the three eager faces before him, 'well - I hardly know what to say. If George is going to be sensible - and the weather gets colder - well...'
 He looked at Mr. Roland, expecting to hear him say something in favour of Timothy. But the tutor said nothing. He looked annoyed.
 'What do you think, Roland?' asked Uncle Quentin.
 'I think you should keep to what you said and let the dog stay outside,' said the tutor. 'George is spoilt, and needs firm handling. You should really keep to your decision about the dog. There is no reason to give way about it just because she has tried to be good for once!'
 The three children stared at Mr. Roland in surprise and dismay. It had never entered their heads that he would not back them up!
 'Oh, Mr. Roland, you are horrid!' cried Anne. 'Oh, do, do say you'll have Timothy back.'
 The tutor did not look at Anne. He pursed up his mouth beneath its thick moustache and looked straight at Uncle Quentin.
 'Well,' said Uncle Quentin, 'perhaps we had better see how George behaves for a whole week. After all -just one day isn't much.'
 The children stared at him in disgust. They thought he was weak and unkind. Mr. Roland nodded his head.
 'Yes,' he said, 'a week will be a better test. If Georgina behaves well for a whole week, we'll have another word about the dog, sir. But at present I feel it would be better to keep him outside.'
 'Very well,' said Uncle Quentin, and went out of the room. He paused to look back. 'Come along into my study sometime,' he said. 'I've got a bit further with my formula. It's at a very interesting stage.'
 The three children looked at one another but said nothing. How mean of the tutor to stop Uncle Quentin from having Timothy indoors again,! They all felt disappointed in him. The tutor saw their faces.
 'I'm sorry to disappoint you,' he said. 'But I think if you'd been bitten by Timothy once and snapped at all over when he got you on the floor, you would not be very keen on having him in either!'
 He went out of the room. The children wondered what to say to George. She came in a moment later, her face eager. But when she saw the gloomy looks of the other three, she stopped short.
 'Isn't Tim to come in?' she asked, quickly. 'What's happened? Tell me!'
 They told her. The little girl's face grew dark and angry when she heard how the tutor had put his foot down about Timothy, even when her father had himself suggested that the dog might come indoors.
 'Oh, what a beast he is!' she cried. 'How I do hate him! I'll pay him out for this. I will, I will!'
 She rushed out of the room. They heard her fumbling in the hall, and then the front door banged.
 'She's gone out into the dark,' said Julian. ‘I bet she's gone to Timmy. Poor old George. Now she'll be worse than ever!'
 That night George could not sleep. She lay and tossed in her bed, listening for Timothy. She heard him cough. She heard him whine. He was cold, she knew he was. She had put plenty of fresh straw into his kennel and had turned it away from the cold north wind - but he must feel the bitter night terribly, after sleeping for so long on her bed!
 Timothy gave such a hollow cough that George could bear it no longer. She must, she simply must, get up and go down to him. 'I shall bring him into the house for a little while and rub his chest with some of that stuff Mother uses for herself when she's got a cold on her chest,' thought the girl. 'Perhaps that will do him good.'
 She quickly put a few clothes on and crept downstairs. The whole house was quiet. She slipped out into the yard and undid Tim's chain. He was delighted to see her and licked her hands and face lovingly.
 'Come along into the warm for a little while,' whispered the little girl. I'll rub your poor chest with some oil I've got.'
 Timmy pattered behind her into the house. She took him to the kitchen - but the fire was out and the room was cold. George went to look at the other rooms.
 There was quite a nice fire still in her father's study. She and Tim went in there. She did not put on the light, because the firelight was fairly bright. She had with her the little bottle of oil from the bathroom cupboard. She put it down by the fire to warm.
 Then she rubbed the dog's hairy chest with the oil, hoping it would do him good. 'Don't cough now if you can help it, Tim,' she whispered. 'If you do, someone f may hear you. Lie down here by the fire, darling, and If get nice and warm. Your cold will soon be better.'
 Timothy lay down on the rug. He was glad to be out TI of his kennel and with his beloved mistress. He put his head on her knee. She stroked him and whispered to him.
 The firelight glinted on the curious instruments and glass tubes that stood around on shelves in her father's study. A log shifted a little in the fire and settled lower, sending up a cloud of sparks. It was warm and peaceful there.
 The little girl almost fell asleep. The big dog closed his eyes too, and rested peacefully, happy and warm.
 George settled down with her head on his neck. She awoke to hear the study clock striking six! The room was cold now, and she shivered. Goodness! Six o'clock! Joanna the cook would soon be awake. She must not find Timmy and George in the study!
 'Tim darling! Wake up! We must put you back into your kennel,' whispered George. 'I’m sure your cold is better, because you haven't coughed once since you've been indoors. Get up - and don't make a noise. Sh!'
 Tim stood up and shook himself. He licked George's hand. He understood perfectly that he must be quite quiet. The two of them slipped out of the study, went into the hall and out of the front door.
 In a minute or two Timothy was on the chain, and in his kennel, cuddled down among the straw. George wished she could cuddle there with him. She gave him a pat and slipped back indoors again.
 She went up to bed, sleepy and cold. She forgot that she was partly dressed and got into bed just as she was. She was asleep in a moment!
 In the morning Anne was most amazed to find that George had on vest, knickers, skirt and jersey, when she got out of bed to dress.
 'Look!' she said. 'You're half-dressed! But I saw you undressing last night.'
 'Be quiet,' said George. 'I went down and let Tim in last night. We sat in front of the study fire and I rubbed him with oil. Now don't you dare to say a word to anyone! Promise!'
 Anne promised - and she faithfully kept her word. Well, well - to think that George dared to roam about like that all night - what an extraordinary girl she was!