you thought of Aunt Bella's garden you saw calceolarias, brown velvet
purses with yellow spots.

She could always get away from Aunt Bella by going down the dark walk
between the yew hedge and the window of Mrs. Fisher's room, and through
the stable-yard into the plantation. The cocks and hens had their black
timber house there in the clearing, and Ponto, the Newfoundland, lived
all by himself in his kennel under the little ragged fir trees.

When Ponto saw her coming he danced on his hind legs and strained at
his chain and called to her with his loud, barking howl. He played with
her, crawling on his stomach, crouching, raising first one big paw and
then the other. She put out her foot, and he caught it and held it
between his big paws, and looked at it with his head on one side,
smiling. She squealed with delight, and Ponto barked again.

The stable bell would ring while they played in the plantation, and
Uncle Edward or Pidgeon or Mrs. Fisher would come out and find her and
take her back into the house. Ponto lifted up his head and howled after
her as she went.

At lunch Mary sat quivering between Mamma and Aunt Bella. The squeezing
and dragging under her waist had begun again. There was a pattern of
green ivy round the dinner plates and a pattern of goats round the
silver napkin rings. She tried to fix her mind on the ivy and the goats
instead of looking at Aunt Bella to see whether she were going to be
ill. She _would_ be if you left mud in the hall on the black and white
marble tiles. Or if you took Ponto off the chain and let him get into
the house. Or if you spilled the gravy.