After that Whitefoot didn't venture over to the new home. He would
sometimes sit a short distance away and gaze at it longingly.
All the joy had gone out of the beautiful springtime for him.
He was quite as unhappy as he had been before he met little
Mrs. Whitefoot. You see, he was even more lonely than he had been
then. And added to this loneliness was that hurt feeling, which
made it ever and ever so much worse. It was very hard to bear.
"If I could understand it, it wouldn't be so bad," he kept saying
over and over again to himself, "but I don't understand it. I don't
understand why Mrs. Whitefoot doesn't love me any more."
CHAPTER XXXII: The Surprise
Surprises sometimes are so great
You're tempted to believe in fate.
- Whitefoot.
One never-to-be forgotten evening Whitefoot met Mrs. Whitefoot and
she invited him to come back to their home. Of course Whitefoot was
delighted.
"Sh-h-h," said little Mrs. Whitefoot, as Whitefoot entered the snug
little room of the house they had built in the old nest of Melody
the Wood Thrush. Whitefoot hesitated.
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