Foxy was allowed in, and perambulated the room, to Mrs. Marston's
supreme discomfort; every time Foxy drew near she gave a smothered
scream. In spite of these various disadvantages, it was a merry party,
and did not break up till dusk.

After tea Abel played, Mr. James being very patronizing, saying at the
end of each piece, 'Very good'; till Abel asked rudely, 'Can yer play
yourself?'

Edward came to the rescue by offering Mr. James tobacco. They drew
round the fire, for the dusk came coldly, only Abel remaining in his
corner playing furiously. He considered it only honest, after such a
tea, to play his loudest.

Hazel, happy but restless, played with Foxy beside the darkening
window, low and many-paned and cumbered with bits of furniture dear to
Mrs. Marston.

Edward was showing his friend a cycle map of the country.

Mrs. Marston was sleepily discussing hens--good layers, good sitters,
good table-fowl--with Mr. James. Hazel, tired of playing with Foxy,
knelt on the big round ottoman with its central peak of stuffed
tapestry and looked idly from the window.

Suddenly she cried out. Edward was alert in a moment.

'What is it, dear?'

Hazel had sunk back on the ottoman, pale and speechless; but she