visit to Old Place.

Timmy had given his mother his word of honour that Flick should not be
released from the stable till their visitor had left. But no casuist
ever realised more clearly than did Timothy Tosswill, the delicate
distinctions which spread, web-like, between the spirit, and the letter,
of a law. And while he moved nimbly about his bedroom, the plan, or
rather the plot he had formed, took formal shape.

Josephine, Timmy's white Angora cat, was now established in a comfortable
basket in a corner of the scullery. There she lay, looking like a ball of
ermine, with her two ten-days old kittens snuggling up close to her.
Josephine was a nervous, fussy mother, but she was devoted to her master,
and he could do with her anything he liked.

Very softly he crept past Nanna's door, and as he started walking down
the back staircase, he heard voices.

Then Betty and Godfrey were still in the scullery? That was certainly a
bit of bad luck, for though he thought he could manage his godfather, he
knew he couldn't deceive Betty. Betty somehow seemed to know by instinct
when he, Timmy, was bent on some pleasant little bit of mischief.

He need not have been afraid, for as he slowly opened the door at the
bottom of the stairs, Betty exclaimed, "I'm going into the drawing-room
after all! But first I must run upstairs and make myself tidy. You two go
on, and I'll follow as soon as I can."

She ran past Timmy, and at once the boy said firmly to Radmore, "I'm
going to take my cat, Josephine, into the drawing-room. Ladies who hate
dogs nearly always like cats."

"I don't think Mrs. Crofton cares for cats," answered Radmore carelessly.

"Oh, yes, she does--and the other day she said The Trellis House was
overrun with mice. Betty thinks it would be a very good home for one of
Josephine's new kittens."

Even while he was speaking, the big white cat had left her basket and was
walking round her master, purring. He stooped down and lifted her up.

"If Mrs. Crofton sees Josephine, she will simply long to have one of her
kittens! Will you bring along the white one, Godfrey--the one we call
Puff? We do so want to find him a good home."

Radmore walked across to where the big basket stood on the floor, and
peered into it dubiously: "Why, Timmy, they're tiny! Poor little
wretches! I wouldn't dream of bringing one of them along--it would be
sheer cruelty. Of course you can bring the cat if you feel like it, but
I shouldn't if I