But this arrow did not hit the mark, though Philippa had aimed it as straight as she could. Dennis did not mind being called a ploughboy a bit. He had seen lots of them, and considered theirs an agreeable and interesting occupation; so he only shrugged his shoulders, and left her to recover her temper as she could. It never answered to be cross at Fieldside, and Philippa had found this out before. There was nothing gained by it. Maisie only looked surprised and sorry, Dennis took no notice at all, and Aunt Katharine was much too busy to spend any time in settling disputes. This being the case, it was surprising to see how soon Philippa got over her passionate fits, and was ready to behave as though nothing had happened. It was so now, for though she was rather sulky with Dennis all the 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.