But on the other hand Edward wouldn’t be at all pleased about the tea-party. Such a pity, because they were all so kind-even Mildred, though of course she could be very trying too. But it wasn’t good for Edward to shut himself away, and of course the more he did it, the more talk there would be. You couldn’t expect anything else-“Seven cups-but I seem to have eight on the tray-oh dear, there’s another little crack, and I must have done it myself, because nobody else touches this set!”

She said, “Oh dear no, I don’t think so,” to Miss Blake, who was complaining of the increasing lack of manners amongst the young, but she had heard it all so often before that her real attention was given to considering whether the milk would go round. Of course it must be made to-but would there be any left over for the cats?

Fortunately, only two of them were present. On the window-ledge Scheherazade the matriarch, a magnificent tortoiseshell. On the top of the piano Lucifer, who was turning out so well that she had dropped the plebeian name of Smut. His coal-black fur fluffed out, his fire-opal eyes ablaze, the tip of his tail just twitching, he followed the exciting play of Cyril’s fingers as they rushed, glissaded, and scrambled from one end of the keyboard to the other and the black keys and the white keys kept jumping up and down. Since he was not yet six months old he might so far forget himself as to pounce. Emmeline gazed at him fondly. It would be very hard to resist him if he came and mewed for milk. She could do without any herself, but Scheherazade must come first.

She began to count all over again, and the numbers came out quite differently. There always seemed to be a cup too many or a cup too few, and if Edward- She sent a bewildered look across the room and saw Susan Wayne come in, her fair hair shining and her face fresh and rosy.

CHAPTER IV