"Perhaps--but how incomparably Prussian!" said the Honourable John Ruffin with warm appreciation. "And you let these unpleasant ones terrorise your children?" "Well, what can I do?" said Mrs. Gibson. "My husband would have stopped it, if he had been down here; but he isn't. I have spoken to one or two men, acquaintances, about it. But they seem afraid to interfere." "We are getting too highly civilised," said the Honourable John Ruffin in a melancholy tone. "The fine old English spirit is dying out; and they're afraid of getting into the papers. But evidently what is needed is the giving of lessons; and the proper person to give them is a fierce small boy--Irish for choice--one who is always and nobly spoiling for a fight. Unfortunately I have not a fierce small Irish boy to hand; but, thank goodness! there are still red Deepings left in England." "What is a red Deeping?" said Mrs. Gibson. "The red Deepings are an old East Anglian strain--red-haired and very fierce and cantankerous when roused. My little cousin Pollyooly here is a red Deeping." "Oh, do you think she could cope with that horrid little boy?" said Mrs. Gibson eagerly. "I'm sure of it," said the Honourable John Ruffin with decision. "Come here, Pollyooly." Pollyooly came; and he felt her biceps carefully. Then he said: "Didn't Mr. Vance tell me a story of a boy called Henry Wiggins whom you found disrespectful and taught manners?" Pollyooly flushed faintly; but she said bravely, in an explanatory tone: "I had to. He was always bothering." "I should think that Henry Wiggins was a far more active and difficult boy in a fight than this fat little prince," said the Honourable John Ruffin. "Oh, Henry Wiggins is tough but really he is quite easy. You've only got to get hold of his hair," said Pollyooly quickly. "But of course the prince has very short hair, only he isn't tough at all," she added in the grave tones of one weighing the chances of battle. "He certainly is cropped. The Prussians have no aesthetic sense," said the Honourable John Ruffin in a disparaging tone. "But I should think that you could get over the difficulty of the hair." "Oh, yes: I'm nearly sure I could," said Pollyooly; and her deep blue eyes began to shine. "May I smack him if he interferes with us?" "Not on any account unless I am at hand," said the Honourable John Ruffin quickly. "I have a deep, patriotic distrust of the chivalry of Prussian barons. I do not think that this one could be trusted to see fair play. You might have a baron on your hands as well as a prince; and it might be too much for a red Deeping of your size. A prince at a time should be your motto." "It would be very amusing," said Mrs. Gibson; and her eyes danced.