"Very well," said Mrs. Lyddell, "we will see what Mr. Polkinghorn says."
"Polkinghorn," said Marian, as Mrs. Lyddell left the room; "that is a
Devonshire name."
"You are very welcome to him, I am sure," said Caroline; "I wish the trade was abolished."
"What cowards girls are!" said Lionel.
"Let us see how boys behave before we say anything against girls," was
Marian's answer.
"Shan't you scream?" said Lionel.
"Of course she will not," said Caroline, "unless with joy at meeting a
Devonshire man."
Marian laughed, and Lionel began an exhilarating story about an unfortunate who was strapped to the dentist's chair, dragged nine times round the room, and finally had his jaw broken.
Marian enjoyed her drive to Salisbury, though it added to her contempt for Wiltshire scenery, by showing her more and more of desolate down. She watched the tall Cathedral spire from far in the distance, peering up among the hills like a picture more than a reality, and she admired the green meadows and quiet vale where the town stands. Poor Caroline was taken up with dreadful anticipations of Mr. Pokingtooth, as Lionel called him, and when arrived at his clamber of torture, hung back, so as to allow Marian to be the first victim. The result of the examination was, that it would be better; though not absolutely necessary, that a certain double tooth should be extracted, and Mr. Polkinghorn, left the room in search of an instrument.
"So you think it ought to go?" sighed Marian.