e Anthony so still, he stopped his fluting in the midst of a bar.

"Wot's up, mate?" he said eagerly. "'Ad some bad noos?"

Anthony folded the sheet and put a hand to his head.

"My little dog's ill," he said. "He's down in the country, and--it's
rather worrying."

The other looked at him curiously. Then--

"That's the worst o' dawgs," he said sagely. "Yer goes an' gets fon'
of 'em, an' then they gets run over, or dies, or somethin'. Cats is
the same. My sister's little gurl 'ad a kitten with one eye. Thort
the world o' that cat, she did. 'Adn't got no use fer dolls nor
nothin'. 'Moses,' she called it. One day a bull-terrier does it in."
He paused dramatically, raising his eyes to heaven with an air of
reminiscent resignation which spoke volumes. "Me sister thort the
kid'd go aout of 'er mine. In the en' they 'ad to send 'er away."

Anthony listened to the anecdote with what politeness he could, hoping
desperately that time would prove its irrelevance.

"Poor little girl," he said quietly.

"But she got over it orright, mate. Same as wot you will. You see.
'Sides," he added, with the gesture of one who adduces a still stronger
argument, "'e ain't dead yet. Don't you meet trouble 'alf-way, mate.
It ain't good enough."

For this philosophy there was much to be said, and Anthony did his best
to practise it. When he had sent a telegram, asking to be informed
daily of his dog's progress, and advised by wire or telephone if there
was any danger, he felt more comfortable. The day, however, dragged
heavily....

Happily Lord Pomfret made few demands upon his patience. For all that,
his lordship had formed a new habit, which Anthony--partly because he
was preoccupied, partly because he had but two eyes--failed to observe.
This was a pity, for while it was not a pretty habit, it happened to
concern Anthony pretty closely. The trick was this. So often as he
and Lyveden were in the same room, his lordship's watery eyes would
follow the footman wheresoever he moved.

It may be urged that a cat may look at a king. True.

But if a cat were detected in the act of looking at a king as Lord
Pomfret Fresne had come to look at Anthony Lyveden, it is safe to
predict not only that the animal would be afforded no further
opportunity of inspecting his majesty, but that in about two minutes he
would, like poor Moses, be put to sleep with his fathers.

* * * * *

By the same post whi