s, and I
think a thigh-bone was dredged up out of a pond near St. Mary Cray.
But Miss Oman will be able to tell you all about it, if you are
interested. She will be delighted to meet a kindred spirit," Miss
Bellingham added, with a smile.

"I don't know that I claim spiritual kinship with a ghoul," said I;
"especially such a very sharp-tempered ghoul."

"Oh, don't disparage her, Doctor Berkeley!" Miss Bellingham pleaded.
"She isn't really bad-tempered; only a little prickly on the surface.
I oughtn't to have called her a ghoul; she is just the sweetest, most
affectionate, most unselfish little angelic human hedgehog that you
could find if you traveled the wide world through. Do you know that
she has been working her fingers to the bone making an old dress of
mine presentable because she is so anxious that I shall look nice at
your little supper party."

"You are sure to do that, in any case," I said; "but I withdraw my
remark as to her temper unreservedly. And I really didn't mean it, you
know; I have always liked the little lady."

"That's right; and now won't you come in and have a few minutes' chat
with my father? We are quite early in spite of the short cuts."

I accepted readily, and the more so inasmuch as I wanted a few words
with Miss Oman on the subject of catering and did not want to discuss
it before my friends. Accordingly I went in and gossiped with Mr.
Bellingham, chiefly about the work we had done at the Museum, until it
was time for me to return to the surgery.

Having taken my leave, I walked down the stairs with reflective
slowness and as much creaking of my boots as I could manage; with the
result, hopefully anticipated, that as I approached the door of Miss
Oman's room it opened and the lady's head protruded.

"I'd change my cobbler if I were you," she said.

I thought of the "angelic human hedgehog," and nearly sniggered in her
face.

"I am sure you would, Miss Oman, instantly; though, mind you, the poor
fellow can't help his looks."

"You are a very flippant young man," she said severely. Whereat I
grinned, and she regarded me silently with a baleful glare. Suddenly I
remembered my mission and became serious and sober.

"Miss Oman," I said. "I very much want to take your advice on a matter
of some importance--to me, at least." (That ought to fetch her, I
thought. The "advice fly"--strangely neglected by Izaak Walton--is
guaranteed to kill in any weather.) And it did fetch h