evening, she got up in quite a good temper the next morning, and did not
seem to remember that he had been rude. The three children started off
for a walk together soon after breakfast, for Aunt Katharine wanted a
message taken to the Manor Farm. On the way, Dennis and Maisie had much
to tell about Mr and Mrs Solace, their house, and all their animals; and
Philippa listened with interest, though she thought it all rather "odd."
This word was indeed constantly on her lips, for her cousins seemed to
live in such a very different way from anything she was used to at home.
When they passed through the village, nodding and smiling to nearly
every one they met, and making little friendly remarks to the people at
their cottage doors, she could not help thinking of her stiff walk in
the park with Miss Mervyn, which always lasted a certain time if it was
fine, and from which she often came back feeling very cross. If the
walk at Fieldside were "odd," it was certainly amusing, and she began to
wish there were a village at Haughton.

Presently the village ended, and now there was a long narrow lane to go
through before the Manor Farm was reached.

"What a nice stick you've got," said Philippa to Dennis.

"It _is_ a jolly stick, isn't it?" he said, holding it out for her to
see more closely.

It had all manner of quaint knots on the stem, and the large knob at the
top was carved into a very excellent likeness of the little rough dog
Peter. Philippa looked at it with admiration.

"I should like one like that," she said. "Where could I buy one?"

"You couldn't buy one at all," said Dennis proudly; "it was made for me.
Tuvvy made it."

"Who's Tuvvy?" inquired Philippa.

"A friend of mine," said Dennis; "he's Mr Solace's wheelwright."

"Oh yes, I remember," said Philippa; "Maisie told me about him. What
odd friends you have!"

She looked curiously at Dennis as he marched along flourishing his
stick. It must be rather nice, she began to think, to do things for
people, and for them to be so grateful, and carve sticks on purpose for
you.

Still, it was "odd," and there was a good deal in it that she did not
understand.

Arrived at the farm, however, her thoughts were soon distracted; first
by the appearance of the turkey-cock, and the agreeable discovery that
she was not afraid of him.

"What a baby you are, Maisie!" she exclaimed.

"She isn't always," said Dennis; "there are lots of things worse than
the turkey-