His name is Czar.

That is"-- he added, giving full rein to his droll humor--"I gave it to him for a name.

He has made it his title.

He did that, you know, so I would always remember that he is my superior." She laughed--low, full-throated and clear--as a girl who has not sadly learned that she is a woman, laughs.

Then she fell to caressing the dog and calling him by name; while Czar--in his efforts to express his delight and satisfaction--was as nearly undignified as it was possible for him to be.
As he watched them, the rugged, world-worn features of the famous novelist were lighted with an expression that transformed them.
"And I suppose," she said,--still responding to the novelist's playful mood,--"that Czar told you I was trespassing in your garden.