dear old creature gave me another glare. I could see that no beautiful friendship was to be looked for by Bertram in this quarter. “He chased my Tibby all over the garden, shooting arrows at her from a bow.”
At this moment a cat strolled out from under the sofa and made for me with its tail up. Cats always do take to me, which made it all the sadder that I should be saddled with Sippy’s criminal record. I stooped to tickle it under the ear, such being my invariable policy, and the Exhibit uttered a piercing cry.
“Stop him! Stop him!”
She moved forward, moving uncommonly well for one of her years, and, having scooped up the cat, stood eyeing me with bitter defiance, as if daring me to start anything. Most unpleasant.
“I like cats,” I said feebly.
It didn’t go. The sympathy of the audience was not with me. And conversation was at what you might call a low ebb, when the door opened and a girl came in.
“My daughter Heloise,” said the prof moodily, as if he hated to admit it.
I turned to mitt the female, and stood there with my hand out, gaping. I can’t remember when I’ve had such a nasty shock.
I suppose everybody has had the experience of suddenly meeting somebody who reminded them frightfully of some fearful person. I mean to say, by way of