There was a yell of pain as the alien backed hastily into the arms of a
lusty youth who had continuously besought Damaris, to allow him "ter
put it acrorst ther blighter's h'ugly mug," and a cry of delight as
Damaris ran to the old lady's side and, squeezing the pup in one arm,
made the sweetest little reverence in the pretty continental way before
she excitedly wrung her god-mother's hand.

"_Marraine_, he hit the puppy, and I've bought him for ten pounds; at
least, Dad will send a cheque tonight. I've given him half-a-crown and
my bracelet on account."

"Call Hobson," said her grace to the bird, who, obeying, had shrilly
piped, "Tumble up, men, tumble up," until Hobson the maid suddenly
surged, from the second-class and ploughed her way through the
delighted crowd.

"Give the purse and bracelet to my maid, you------"

"Swab," supplemented the parrot.

"-----at once," finished her grace, just as, with a cry of "Here's
Dad!" Damaris ran to meet her father, who, having got hung up in the
traffic, had failed to meet the train. He listened patiently, with
dancing eyes, to the story, smiled across at the duchess, gave the man
a pound-note and a jolly good talking to, and acquired a bull pup with
the Rodney Stone strain, which they promptly christened Wellington, as
it had won at Waterloo.

Wellington forthwith developed an inordinate jealousy of Jane Coop.