Tom would have given much to be allowed to announce his triumph
defiantly to old Mr Williams, to say nothing of making a considerable
noise about it in the village; but her wish was law, and he reluctantly
agreed.

* * * * *

There are moments in a man's life when, however enthusiastic a
gardener he may be, his soul soars above vegetables. Tom's shot with a
jerk into the animal kingdom. The first present he gave Sally in his
capacity of fiance was a dog.

It was a half-grown puppy with long legs and a long tail, belonging
to no one species, but generously distributing itself among about six.
Sally loved it, and took it with her wherever she went. And on one of
these rambles down swooped Constable Cobb, the village policeman,
pointing out that, contrary to regulations, the puppy had no collar.

It is possible that a judicious meekness on Sally's part might have
averted disaster. Mr Cobb was human, and Sally was looking
particularly attractive that morning. Meekness, however, did not come
easily to Sally. In a speech which began as argument and ended (Mr
Cobb proving solid and unyielding) as pure cheek, she utterly routed
the constable. But her victory was only a moral one, for as she turned
to go Mr Cobb, dull red and puffing slightly, was already entering
particulars of the affair in his note-book, and Sally knew that the
last word was with him.

On her way back she met Tom Kitchener. He was looking very tough and