“Oh. But, Alan, I do think we’d make a great mistake to stay out our lease here. I do think—”

“All right, Effie, you have your reasons, I know. Some other time—” His pen began to move again, across the paper.

“Well—good-night, Alan.”

“Good-night, Effie.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

SABRINA went down to breakfast the next morning in a very cautious state of mind, expecting to hear more about the lights in Hilary’s room. But Father was behind the Times, as usual, and Aunt Effie seemed quite normal, remarking as she left the table that she had letters to write.

Sabrina went out into the garden to cut fresh flowers for Hilary’s vases, and collected Muffin on her way upstairs. When she set him down inside the door he went at once to the window seat, jumped up on the sun-warmed cushions, rolled over to have his stomach rubbed, and began to purr loudly.

She watched him a moment, amused. His passion for Hilary’s society endeared him to her. She envied him too, in his complete familiarity with the invisible presence which roused in herself no fear or strangeness. Without Muffin she would have been less sure of him, but the kitten obviously had no doubts at all about those friendly fingers in his ecstatic ribs.

“You can tell your friend Hilary to be more careful about these lights,” she addressed Muffin severely, as she spread down yesterday’s newspaper to lay the faded flowers on, and began to collect the vases to be changed. “Aunt Effie’s mind was just settling down again, and now he’s gone and got her unsettled.”

“I’m sorry about last night,” said Hilary, very contrite. “But I always did like lots of light, and now I don’t even have to think about the bill!”

“Precious Bella got a shock too, last night,” Sabrina continued, returning from the bathroom with a vase full of fresh water in each hand. She placed them on the desk and began to fill one with roses and one with tall delphiniums which raised their pale blue spires well above her shining head.

“Have you any idea how pleasant it is for me to see you come into this room with your arms full of flowers?” he remarked irrelevantly.

“I can lie myself black in the face for him,” she went on grumbling at Muffin, “but nothing will pacify Aunt Effie so long as Bella goes round having nerves and barking fits every so often. Bella isn’t like you, she hates the sight of him.”

“Tell Bella from me that it’s entirely mutual,” said Hilary, scratching Muffin’s stomach on the window seat in the sun. “I’ve known some extremely nice dogs in my time, but if ever I met a nasty-minded, ill-natured bitch, it’s Bella!”