They wouldn't touch you while I'm there." Mary inspected the Clumber puppies, and was promised the pick of the litter if Lady Anne would allow her to accept it.
"She won't refuse," said the boy, confidently.

"She thinks no end of me." "Unless the puppy might worry Fifine." "The puppy wouldn't take any notice of that thing--the old dog, I mean.
Besides, she lives in her basket, doesn't she?
You might keep the puppy in the stables and take him for walks whenever you can.

He'll have a beautiful coat like his mother, and if he's half as clever as she is...!" "He's a lovely thing," said Mary, hugging the puppy, who was licking her face energetically and patting her with tremendous paws.
They visited the paddock next; and Sir Robin, springing on Ajax's back, trotted him up and down for Mary's inspection.

He had a good seat in the saddle, and he looked his best on horseback.

To be sure, Mary had not discovered that Sir Robin was plain, his mother's plainness militating in him against what share of beauty he might have inherited from his father.