"We thought you had gone with mother," explained Drina, looking about
for a chair.

Selwyn brought it. "I was commissioned to say that Nina couldn't
wait--dowagers and cakes and all that, you know. Won't you sit down?
It's rather messy and the cat is the guest of honour."

"We have three guests of honour," said Drina; "you, Eileen, and Kit-Ki.
Uncle Philip, mother has forbidden me to speak of it, so I shall tell
her and be punished--but _wouldn't_ it be splendid if Aunt Alixe were
only here with us?"

Selwyn turned sharply, every atom of colour gone; and the child smiled
up at him. "_Wouldn't_ it?" she pleaded.

"Yes," he said, so quietly that something silenced the child. And
Eileen, giving ostentatious and undivided attention to the dogs, was now
enveloped by snooping, eager muzzles and frantically wagging tails.

"My lap is full of paws!" she exclaimed; "take them away, Katie! And
oh!--my gown, my gown!--Billy, stop waving your tumbler around my face!
If you spill that milk on me I shall ask your Uncle Philip to put you in
the guard-house!"

"You're going to bolo us, aren't you, Uncle Philip?" inquired Billy.
"It's my turn to be killed, you remember--"

"I have an idea," said Selwyn, "that Miss Erroll is going to play for
you to sing."