She prided herself on the brilliancy with which she played the piano--especially the scherzo passages.
"But--b--but she looks such an intelligent child," she said.
"Yes.

That's why," said the duke happily.
Miss Belthorp blinked again; then in a somewhat helpless tone she said: "Oh, very well, your Grace." When the door closed behind her, the duke smiled happily and rubbed his hands together.
Pollyooly was expecting to spend a quiet afternoon in the gardens and home wood with the Lump and the dogs and perhaps Miss Belthorp.

She hoped that Miss Belthorp would have some more important way of spending her time.

Of Emily Gibbs she could easily dispose, since already she was giving her orders with a quiet firmness there was no gainsaying.
Indeed, Emily Gibbs had been far too well brought up not to receive orders from what she called "A Lady of Title," with humble gratitude, and execute them with vigour and despatch; and already she was hard at work making linen overalls for the Lump.

But at half-past three, just as Miss Belthorp had left them to write letters and they had started for the home wood, the obedient Emily came hurrying along the garden to say that the duke wished Pollyooly to put on her prettiest clothes and come with him to pay a call.
Pollyooly frowned deeply at the thought that had not Miss Belthorp lingered with them, they would by now have been safely hidden in some recess of the wood.