Always, on the advent of doubtful strangers, he interposed his own furry bulk between her and possible kidnaping.

He stood beside her as she lapped her bread-and-milk or as she chewed laboriously at her fragment of dog-biscuit.
At such times, he proved himself the mortal foe of Peter Grimm, the Mistress's temperamental gray kitten, with whom he was ordinarily on very comfortable terms.

Peter Grimm was the one creature on the Place whom Lady feared.

On the day after her arrival, she essayed to worry the haughty catkin.

And, a second later, the puppy was nursing a brace of deep red scratches at the tip of her inquiring black nostrils.
Thereafter, she gave Peter Grimm a wide berth.