Oliver's quick ears caught the words intended only for Peggy. He smiled brightly. "If you knew what a compliment you were paying me, Doggie, you wouldn't have said such a thing." The man seeing the company stare at him, halted, took his pipe out of his mouth, and scratched his head. "But--er--forgive me, my dear Oliver," said the Dean. "No doubt he is an excellent fellow--but don't you think he might smoke his pipe somewhere else?" "Of course he might," said Oliver. "And he jolly well shall." He put his hand to his mouth, sea-fashion--they were about thirty yards apart--and shouted: "Here, you! What the eternal blazes are you doing here?" "Please don't hurt the poor man's feelings," said the kindly Dean. Oliver turned a blank look on his Uncle. "His what? Ain't got any. Not that kind of feelings." He proceeded: "Now then, look lively! Clear out! Skidoo!" The valet touched his forehead in salute, and--"Where am I to go to, Cap'en?" "Go to----" Oliver checked himself in time, and turned to the Dean. "Where shall I tell him to go?" he asked sweetly. "The kitchen garden would be the best place," replied the Dean. "I think I'd better go and fix him up myself," said Oliver. "A little conversation in his own language might be beneficial." "But isn't he English?" asked Peggy. "Born and bred in Wapping," said Oliver. He marched off across the lawn; and, could they have heard it, the friendly talk that he had with Chipmunk would have made the Saint and the Divines, and even the Crusader, Sir Guy de Chevenix, who were buried in the cathedral, turn in their tombs. Doggie, watching the disappearing Chipmunk, Oliver's knuckles in his neck, said: "I think it monstrous of Oliver to bring such a disreputable creature down here." Said the Dean: "At any rate, it brings a certain excitement into our quiet surroundings." "They must be having the time of their lives in the Servants' Hall," said Peggy. CHAPTER IV