Suddenly a bulldog appeared. She stood regarding us for a moment, her massive head a little on one side. Then a great smile spread over her countenance, and she started to sway in our direction, wagging a greeting with her hind quarters, as bulldogs do. Two of the puppies loped off to meet her. The long-suffering way in which she permitted them to mouth her argued that she was accustomed to being the kindly butt of their exuberance. The third turned to follow his fellows, hesitated, caught my lady's eye, and rushed back to his new-found friend. "That's the one for me," said I. "Give me good judgment. I shall call him Paris." "Appropriately. Off with the old love and on with the new. I'm sure he's faithless, and I expect the bulldog's been awfully kind to him, haven't you, dear?" She patted the snuffling beauty. "Besides, I gave him the glad eye, which wasn't fair." "I'll bet that's how Venus got the apple, if the truth were known. Any way, I'm going to choose him for choosing you. You see. We shall get on well." "Juno, Juno!" cried a woman's voice from the house. Immediately the bulldog started and turned towards the doorway. "What did I say?" said I. "Something seemed to tell me you were a goddess, when--" "When?" "When you were upset this morning. I saw you very close then, you see. Well! What sort of weather have you been having in Olympus lately? And how's Vulcan? I suppose Cupid must be getting quite a big boy?" She laughed. "You wouldn't know him if you saw him," she said. "Don't be too sure. When does he go to the 'Varsity? Or shan't you send him?" "He's there now. Doing awfully well, too!" "Taken a first in the Honour School of Love, I suppose? Is he as good a shot as ever?" "He's a very good son." "Ought to be," said I. "Yes," she said steadily, gazing with eyes half-closed, over the fields and hedgerows, away to the distant hills, the faintest smile hung on her parted lips. "He's never given me a day's trouble since he was born. I don't think he will, either, not for a long time, any way." Thoughtfully I pulled on my gloves. Then: "My dear," said I, "for that boast you may shortly expect a judgment." "More judgments?" she cried with a laugh, turning to look at me, the straight brows raised in mockery. "Which will cost you more, my fair Olympian, than a glad eye."