"Yes; but if you showed that you didn't know anything about it, it would look very suspicious indeed," said the duke; and he frowned deeply as he cudgelled his brains for a way out of this unexpected difficulty. "I expect it would," said Pollyooly. He frowned on, fidgeting; then he said with decision: "Well, the only thing to do is to stop it altogether." "That would be quite safe," said Pollyooly brightening. "All right: I'll see to it," said the duke. Pollyooly left him with her heart at ease. He frowned over the matter for some time, for it did not seem to him to be quite in the natural order of things that a duke should actually refuse to allow his daughter to learn the piano. But he could find no other way of concealing Pollyooly's damning ignorance of the art of music. At last therefore he sent for Miss Belthorp and said: "I--er--have decided that--er--Poll--er--Lady Marion is not to learn the piano." "Not learn the piano?" said Miss Belthorp in the tone of one afflicted with the last amazement. "I--er--have never observed the--er--slightest aptitude in her for it," said the duke with perfect truthfulness. Miss Belthorp blinked. She prided herself on the brilliancy with which she played the piano--especially the scherzo passages. "But--b--but she looks such an intelligent child," she said. "Yes. That's why," said the duke happily. Miss Belthorp blinked again; then in a somewhat helpless tone she said: "Oh, very well, your Grace." When the door closed behind her, the duke smiled happily and rubbed his hands together. Pollyooly was expecting to spend a quiet afternoon in the gardens and home wood with the Lump and the dogs and perhaps Miss Belthorp. She hoped that Miss Belthorp would have some more important way of spending her time. Of Emily Gibbs she could easily dispose, since already she was giving her orders with a quiet firmness there was no gainsaying. Indeed, Emily Gibbs had been far too well brought up not to receive orders from what she called "A Lady of Title," with humble gratitude, and execute them with vigour and despatch; and already she was hard at work making linen overalls for the Lump. But at half-past three, just as Miss Belthorp had left them to write letters and they had started for the home wood, the obedient Emily came hurrying along the garden to say that the duke wished Pollyooly to put on her prettiest clothes and come with him to pay a call. Pollyooly frowned deeply at the thought that had not Miss Belthorp lingered with them, they would by now have been safely hidden in some recess of the wood. For the moment she almost wished that the Lump were not so attractive. But very soon she was serene again. After all it was a pleasant thing to be prettily dressed and ride in a motor car; and there was always the exciting anticipation that the cakes at tea would not only be delicious but quite uncommon.