essly confused had she been paying much attention to him. As she
followed him up the steps of the court she fancied that he was even
shaky on his legs.

Rawlings, the butler, greeted them with a cold and dignified civility
which showed him thoroughly aware of his own value. Also there was a
lack of geniality in his tone which showed that he did not greatly love
the duke; and the one smile he lavished on Pollyooly was stiff and
wooden. But she certainly passed his careless scrutiny.

Then, they had gone but a few steps into the hall when a slim and
serpentine dachshund trotted forward to greet them. It avoided the
duke and sniffed at Pollyooly. Then it uttered a yelp of joy, and
began to dance round her. At the yelp, four more small dogs hurried
down the hall, and flung themselves on Pollyooly with every sign of the
warmest affection.

The duke gasped and blinked, suddenly assumed a Machiavellian air, and
said, for the benefit of the butler and footman, in a high, unnatural
voice:

"Well, at any rate, the dogs haven't forgotten you, Marion."

"No, papa," said Pollyooly with an angel smile.

CHAPTER XIX

POLLYOOLY IS INTRODUCED TO THE COUNTY

He had never done it before, but to-day, to the surprise of his butler,
the duke accompanied his supposed daughter up the stairs to Lady Marion
Ricksborough's suite of rooms. His face was flushed; and he stumbled
twice. His mind was full of the strange behaviour of the serpentine
dachshund and the other dogs.

When they had risen above the range of hearing of the butler and
footmen in the hall, he said somewhat breathlessly:

"I was never so flabbergasted in my life. Fancy dogs taking to you
like that! When I saw Hildegarde, who is one of the most particular
dogs I ever came across, dancing round you like that, you could have
knocked me down with a feather."

"Yes: it is funny," said Pollyooly; and she smiled.

"But what a blessing it is!" the duke went on quickly. "It will be all
over the place that the dogs recognised you; and after that it's no
good whatever any one's saying that you're not Marion. It settles
it--absolutely."

"I suppose it does," said Pollyooly calmly.

She had no intention in the world of telling him that the dogs had the
best of reasons for recognising her, in that they actually had known
her before. It did not trouble her at all to leave him in error. It
suited his purpose so well that no one should know that she had ever