it doesn't do to mix the layers. By the way, you haven't been up-stairs
yet; have you? Come on, and I'll show you--and you, too, Aunt Hannah."

Billy clapped her hands; but Aunt Hannah shook her head.

"I'll leave that for younger feet than mine," she said; adding
whimsically: "It's best sometimes that one doesn't try to step too far
off one's own level, you know."

"All right," laughed the man. "Come on, Miss Billy."

On the door at the head of the stairs he tapped twice, lightly.

"Well, Pete," called Cyril's voice, none too cordially.

"Pete, indeed!" scoffed Bertram. "You've got company, young man. Open
the door. Miss Billy is viewing the Strata."

The bare floor echoed to a quick tread, then the door opened and Cyril
faced them with a forced smile on his lips.

"Come in--though I fear there will be little--to see," he said.

Bertram assumed a pompous attitude.

"Ladies and gentlemen; you behold here the lion in his lair."

"Be still, Bertram," ordered Cyril.

"He is a lion, really," confided Bertram, in a lower voice; "but as he