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 their suspicions. With them Pollyooly was at times almost truculent.

More than once, in the secrecy of the housekeeper's room, Mrs. Hutton said gloomily: "I don't know what's come to that there Marion. She's taken to giving herself such airs that there's no doing anything with her. The way she orders me about, she might be twenty."

"Lady Marion's a red Deeping; and they're like that. And, what's more, she's getting to the age when it comes out," said the housekeeper sagely.

In spite of the trying need for continuous wariness, Pollyooly was enjoying her stay in the country beyond all words. Her pleasure was only marred by the frequent thought that the Lump was not with her to share it; the desire for him was persistent. She would have liked also a companion of her own age; but the dogs proved fairly efficient substitutes. They attached themselves to her to a dog. Firmly and with devotion, big dogs and little dogs, they accompanied her on all her excursions.

They were not, indeed, welcome in the woods, and were the occasion of her displaying her best red Deeping manner to an under-keeper, who had