Mrs. Marian isn't crazy nor queer, only she seldom leaves home,
never goes to church, nor visits anywhere. She doesn't
care for anybody, nor take any interest in Lagonda Ledge,
and she keeps a Great Dane dog, as big as a calf, that is
friendly to women and children, but won't let a man come near,
unless Mrs. Marian says so." Dennie paused.

"Very interesting, Miss Dennie, but what can I do?" Fenneben asked.
"Shall I kill the dog and carry off the woman like the regulation grim
ogre of the fairy tales?"

Dennie hesitated. Few girls would have come to a college president on such
a mission as hers. But then few college presidents are like Lloyd Fenneben.

"Of course nobody likes Mrs. Marian, and my father--when he's
not quite himself--says dreadful things if I mention her name."
Dennie's checks were crimson as she thought of her father.
"It's none of my business, but I've felt sorry for Mrs. Marian
ever since she came here. She seems like an innocent outcast."

"That is very pitiful." Lloyd Fenneben's voice was sympathetic.

"This morning," continued Dennie, "Bug was playing with the dog outside,
and I went into the house for the first time. Mrs. Marian is very pleasant.
She asked me about my work here and I told her about Sunrise and you,
and your niece, Miss Elinor, being here."

"All the interesting features. Did you mention Professor Burgess?" The query
was innocently meant, but it brought the color to Dennie Saxon's cheek.