He had mentioned Wednesday as the probable day of his arrival and on Tuesday Pat subjected Silver Bush to such a furbishing up that Sid asked sarcastically if Uncle Horace were coming to see them or their furniture.

“It’s what we are to do wid thim blessed cats do be puzzling me,” worried Judy. “Yer Uncle Horace hates cats as bad as ould Cousin Nicholas himsilf cud do.”

“Oh, do you remember Cousin Nicholas coming downstairs that rainy Christmas night little Mary was born?” giggled Rae.

“Rimimber, is it? Oh, oh, cud I iver be forgetting him, standing there looking like the wrath av God. And now we do be having three to kape out av Horace’s way. To be sure, Gintleman Tom won’t be bothering him much but Bold-and-Bad and that Squedunk are so frindly. We’ll just have to see that the dure av the Poet’s room is kipt tight shut and trust the rist to the Good Man Above. It’s the lucky thing we’ve got rid av Popka.”

Pat did not know if it were so lucky. It had half-broken her heart to give Popka away to the distant cousin down at East Point. He was such a beautiful cat with his fluffy Maltese coat and white paws, and so affectionate. Why, he used to go over the house at night, visit all the bedrooms and kiss all the sleepers. And the purrs of him! He could outpurr Bold-and-Bad and Squedunk together. It was a shame to give him away. But Long Alec was adamant. Three cats were enough…more than enough…for any house. He would really like to be sure of an unoccupied chair once in a while. Popka must go…and Popka went. Pat and Rae both cried when his new owner bore him away, shrieking piteously in a basket.

Uncle Horace did not come Wednesday, nor on Thursday or Friday. Long Alec shrugged disappointedly. Likely he had changed his mind at the last minute and wouldn’t come at all. That was Horace all over.

“But if he does come I want all you folks to mind your p’s and q’s,” said Long Alec warningly. “Horace is a bit peculiar in some ways. He was a regular martinet on board ship I understand. Everything had to be just so, running smooth as oil. And he was just the same about a house. That’s why he never married, he told us the last time he was home. Couldn’t find a wife neat enough. It’s all very well to listen to Judy’s yarns of his pranks. He used to be a rip for them, I admit, but nobody else was to play them and accidents had no place in his scheme of things. I don’t know what he’ll think of your dance. The last time he was home he was badly down on dancing.”