The tactful Sarah Brown nudged the witch. "Better not stay," she
murmured.

"Of course we'll stay," replied the witch loudly. "I'm horribly hungry,
and there's sure to be some supper."

"Certainly there is," added Lady Arabel. "I cooked it myself. Do you
know, I've never seen a cookery book before, and the little pictures of
animals with the names of joints written all over them shocked me
dretfully. I feel I could have a too deliciously intimate conversation
with a bullock now."

The house of Higgins had an enormous hall to which a large number of
high windows gave the impression of a squint. I should think two small
Zeppelins could have danced a minuet under its dome. Sarah Brown and the
witch put on their cathedral look at once, by mistake, and propping
their chins upon their umbrellas gazed reverently upward.

"Too dretful, a house of this size without servants," said Lady Arabel.
"The fourth footman was the last to go. He said even the Army would be
better than this. He liked spooks, he said, at second hand, but not
otherwise. Too funny how people take dear Rrchud seriously. I'm glad to
say the orchestra has stayed with us. Come into Rrchud's study, won't
you, while I just go and help the first violin to dish up the soup."

Sarah Brown and the witch were left in a small room that opened on to
the great hall. It was furnished rather like a lodging-house parlour.
There was a thermometer elaborately disguised as a model of the
Eddystone Lighthouse on the mantelpiece, flanked on each side by a china
boot in pink, with real bootlaces, and a pig looking out of the top of