“Whin ye see May Binnie nixt time ye can be saying…to yersilf, av coorse…‘Ye don’t be having a fourth cousin in the English aristocracy, Miss Binnie.’ And that’ll be a satisfaction.”

“I shall say it to Trix,” said Cuddles.

“Indeed, you won’t,” cried Pat. “Don’t make yourself ridiculous, Cuddles. We’re of no more importance in the Countess of Medchester’s eyes…supposing she ever heard of us…than the Binnies. And who cares? Look at that froth of cherry bloom behind the turkey house. I’m quite sure there’s nothing lovelier on the grounds of Medchester Castle…if there is a castle.”

“Av coorse there’s a castle,” said Judy, carefully cutting out the item. “An earl cudn’t be living in innything humbler. I’m pinning this up on the wall be me dresser to show Tillytuck. He’s niver quate belaved me whin I tould him av yer being third cousin to Lady Gresham.”

“Fourth, Judy, fourth.”

“Oh, oh, I might have made a bit av a mistake in the figure but does it be mattering? Innyhow, this will convince him. He was be way av being a bit cranky this morning whin he come in for breakfast though he cudn’t be putting a name to the rason…like the cintipede that had rheumatism in one av his legs but cudn’t tell which. He was putting on some frills wid me but this will be one in the eye for him. A rale countess wid a maid to button her boots! Oh, oh! I had a faling last night there did be something strange in the air.”

When the letter came that day…being left in the mailbox at the road just like any common epistle and carried up to the house in Tillytuck’s none too clean hand…Judy felt there was something stranger still in the air. A heavy cream-tinted envelope with a dainty silver crest on the flap, addressed in a black distinctive hand to Mrs. Alex Gardiner, North Glen, P. E. Island, and post-marked Ottawa. The crest and the post-mark had a very queer effect on Judy. She gave a gasp and looked at Gentleman Tom. Gentleman Tom winked knowingly.

“Anybody dead?” said Tillytuck.

Judy ignored him and called for Pat in an agitated voice. Pat came in from the garden, her arms full of the plumes of white lilac, McGinty ambling at her heels. Cuddles came running across the yard, the spring sunlight shining on her golden-brown head. Judy was standing in the middle of the kitchen floor holding the letter at arm’s length.

“Judy, what is it?”

“Ye may well ask,” said Judy. “Will ye be looking at the crest? And the post-mark?”

Pat took the letter.

“I feel a thrill…several thrills,” whispered Cuddles.

“Thrills, is it? Sure and ye’ll be having thrills wid a vengeance if that do be what I’m thinking it is.”