'I learnt that in my dictation,' returned Polly, vexed, but too candid for reticence; 'but Dad Fabian used to say the same thing; please don't stroke Veteran Rag the wrong way, he does not like it.'
'Poor old Veteran, he has won some scars, I see. I am afraid you are a character, Polly. Rag and Tatters, and copybook wisdom, well-thumbed and learnt, and then retailed as the original article. I wish Dr. John could hear you; he would put you through your paces.'
'Who is Dr. John?' asked Polly, coming down a little from her stilts, and evidently relenting in favour of Roy's handsome face.
'Oh, Dr. John is Dr. John, unless you choose to do as the world does, and call him Dr. Heriot; he is Dr. John to us; after all, what's in a name?'
'I like my guardian to be called Dr. Heriot best; the other sounds disrespectful and silly.'
'We did not know your opinion before, you see,' returned Roy, with a slight drawl, and almost closing his eyes; 'if you could have telegraphed your wish to us three or four years ago it might have been different; but with the strict conservative feeling prevalent at the vicarage, I am afraid Dr. John it will remain, unless,' meditating deeply; 'but no, he might not like it.'
'Well, we might make it Dr. Jack, you know.'
'After all, boys are nothing but plagues,' returned Polly, scornfully.
'"Playa, plagua, plague, _et cetera, et cetera_, that which smites or wounds; any afflictive evil or calamity; a great trial or vexation; also an acute malignant febrile disease, that often prevails in Egypt, Syria, and Turkey, and that has at times prevailed in the large cities of Europe, with frightful mortality; hence any pestilence." Have you swallowed Webster's _Dictionary_, Polly?'
'My dears, I hope you do not mean to quarrel already?'
'We are only sounding the depths of each other's wisdom. Polly is awfully shallow, Aunt Milly; the sort of person, you know, who utilises all the scraps. Wait till she sits at the feet of Gamaliel--Dr. John, I mean; he is the one for finding out "all is not gold that glitters."'
Mildred smiled. 'Let them fight it out,' she thought; 'no one can resist long the charm of Polly's perfect honesty, and her pride is a little too thin-skinned for daily comfort; good-natured raillery will be a wholesome tonic. What a clever boy he is! only seventeen, too,' and she shook her head indulgently at Roy.