write my name better than I do; and it will go better with the
rest of the letter. Sign away," said the Terror firmly.

Erebus signed away, and then she said: "But what good's the money going
to be to us, if we've got to spend it on a silly old cats' home? It
only means a lot of trouble."

The guilelessness deepened and deepened on the Terror's face. "Well,
you see, there aren't many cats in Little Deeping--not enough to fill a
cats' home decently," he said slowly. "We should have to have bicycles
to collect them--from Great Deeping, and Muttle Deeping, and farther
off."

Erebus gasped; and the light of understanding illumined her charming
face, as she cried in a tone of awe not untinctured with admiration:
"Well, you do think of things!"

"I have to," said the Terror. "If I didn't we should never have a
single thing."

The Terror procured a stamp from Mrs. Dangerfield. He did not tell her
of the splendid scheme he was promoting; he only said that he had
thought he would write to Aunt Amelia. Mrs. Dangerfield was pleased
with him for his thought: she wished him to stand well with his
great-aunt, since she was a rich woman without children of her own.
She did not, indeed, suggest that the letter should be shown to her,
though she suspected that it contained some artless request. She
thought it better that the Terror should write to his great-aunt to
make requests rather than not write at all.

The letter posted, the Twins resumed the somewhat jerky tenor of their
lives. Erebus was full of speculations about the changes in their
lives those bicycles would bring about; she would pause in the very
middle of some important enterprise to discuss the rides they would
take on them, the orchards that those machines would bring within their
reach. But the Terror would have none of it; his calm philosophic mind
forbade him to discuss his chickens before they were hatched.

Since her philanthropy was confined entirely to cats, it is not
remarkable that philanthropy, and not intelligence, was the chief
characteristic of Lady Ryehampton. As the purport of her
great-nephew's letter slowly penetrated her mind, a broad and beaming
smile of gratification spread slowly over her large round face; and as
she handed the letter to Miss Hendersyde, her companion, she cried in
unctuous tones: "The dear boy! So young, but already enthusiastic
about great things!"

Miss Hendersyde looked at her employer patiently; she foresa