Momeby tearfully, "and Arnold had just come in, and I was asking
him what sort of sauce he would like with the asparagus--"

"I hope he said hollandaise," interrupted Clovis, with a show of
quickened interest, "because if there's anything I hate--"

"And all of a sudden I missed Baby," continued Mrs. Momeby in a
shriller tone. "We've hunted high and low, in house and garden
and outside the gates, and he's nowhere to be seen."

"Is he anywhere to he heard?" asked Clovis; "if not, he must be at
least two miles away."

"But where? And how?" asked the distracted mother.

"Perhaps an eagle or a wild beast has carried him off," suggested
Clovis.

"There aren't eagles and wild beasts in Surrey," said Mrs. Momeby,
but a note of horror had crept into her voice.

"They escape now and then from travelling shows. Sometimes I
think they let them get loose for the sake of the advertisement.
Think what a sensational headline it would make in the local
papers: ' Infant son of prominent Nonconformist devoured by
spotted hyaena.' Your husband isn't a prominent Nonconformist,
but his mother came of Wesleyan stock, and you must allow the
newspapers some latitude."

"But we should have found his remains," sobbed Mrs. Momeby.