have a lady angel, so there," said the Kitten, "I'll have a
man angel."

"I daresay they'll let you," Ger said soothingly. "A great, big, kind
man with wings like you said."

"Has yours got wings?" the Kitten demanded.

"I don't think so," said Ger, "he's not that sort; but," he added
proudly, "he's got spurs."

"Will it stay in the nursery _all_ night?" the Kitten asked again
rather nervously.

"Of course that's what he's for, to take care of you, so that you'll
feel quite safe and happy."

"Oh," said the Kitten, and her voice betrayed the fact that she found
this statement far from reassuring.

She said nothing to her mother, and Mrs Ffolliot heard her say her
prayers as usual, kissed her, blessed her, and tucked her in. No
sooner, however, had Mrs Ffolliot gone down the passage than the most
vigorous yells brought her back to the night-nursery, while both Nana
and Thirza hastened there also.

The Kitten was sitting up in bed, wide-eyed and apparently more
indignant than frightened.

"Take it away," she exclaimed; "open the window and let it out."

"Let what out?" asked the bewildered Mrs Ffolliot.

"The angel," sobbed the Kitten, "I don't want it, I heard its wings
rustling and it disturbed me dreffully--I don't want it, open the
window wide."

"The window is open at the top," said Mrs Ffolliot; "but why do you
want to get rid of an angel? Surely that's a lovely thing to have in
the room."

"No," said the Kitten firmly, "I don't like it, and I don't want it. I
don't want no angel I haven't seen. I don't like people in my room
when I go to sleep."

Nana and Thirza had melted away, only too thankful not to be called
upon to arbitrate in the angel question. Mrs Ffolliot and her small
daughter stared at each other in the flickering firelight.

"I'm sure," said Mrs Ffolliot, trying hard to steady her voice, "that
no self-respecting angel would stay for a minute with a little girl
that didn't want him. You may be certain of that."

"A she might," the Kitten suggested suspiciously.

"No angel would," Mrs Ffolliot said decidedly.

"Do you think," the Kitten asked anxiously, "that there's enough room
at the top for it to squeege froo? I can't _bear_ those wings
rustling."

Mrs Ffolliot switched on the light. "You can see for yourself."

"Thank you, mummy dear, I'll be much happier by myself, really," and
the Kitten lay down quite contentedly.

CHAPTER VIII

GENTLEMAN GER

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