“Hush, child!”

“But she is, rather ! Just a tiny little bit funny, isn’t she, Miss Gault?”

Selena smiled at Wolf⁠—that peculiar hypnotized smile with which older people, who have given their souls into children’s keeping, transform their pets’ worst faults into qualities that are irresistibly engaging.

“Aunt Mattie’s got a nose like yours,” said Olwen Smith.

“Like mine?” murmured Selena Gault, reproachfully. “You mustn’t be rude, Olwen dear. That’s one thing I can’t have in my house.”

The brown head was buried closer in the black silk gown, but the child’s voice sounded clear enough.