The yards were also built for giants, from the neat square where the coach-houses showed great black mouths, to the second stable yard, with its endless range of boxes, a few of them modernized, and again the cow yards full of buildings and lofts and barns.
Here Gheena, the puppies in her arms and Crabbit at her heels, joined them.
The scratch pack were getting used to the cleanliness and internment by now. Grandjer had abandoned as almost hopeless his desire to dig his way out, but he still howled unmelodiously, remembering happy days of freedom at the farm. Home Ruler had lost weight, and in consequence could go farther. She was a vast feeder.
Psyche almost leapt through the door on to the flags as she endeavoured to master the hounds' names.
"Grandjer, him with no tail, Miss," said little Andy. "Ye can call that to mind. He is Beauty's son. An' Daisy here with the two sphots near his axther."
Psyche took her hat off.
"An' Spinsther, him with one ear yelly and one white, an' Home Ruler he is the big dog, an' Greatness that's all black one side. An' Beauty he is nearly all yally. He is Grandjer's mother, didn't I tell ye, Miss?"
"It isn't quite as easy as playing Bridge," said Darby, listening. "There, Andy, not any more now."
Miss Delorme was persistent. She did not leave the kennels until she had got four hounds off by heart as she said. "So that I can call up any of those lot," she said contentedly, "if they are near me."
"That being, of course, the usual procedure for the Field," observed Darby with unabated gravity, "to call the hounds to them. Now there are the nags."