ourselves?''  suggested Lady Blemley.

  Sir Wilfrid went in search of the animal, and the company
settled themselves down to the languid expectation of
witnessing some more or less adroit drawing-room
ventriloquism.

  In a minute Sir Wilfrid was back in the room, his face
white beneath its tan and his eyes dilated with excitement.
``By Gad, it's true!''

  His agitation was unmistakably genuine, and his hearers
started forward in a thrill of awakened interest.

  Collapsing into an armchair he continued breathlessly: ``I
found him dozing in the smoking-room and called out to him
to come for his tea.  He blinked at me in his usual way, and
I said, `Come on, Toby; don't keep us waiting'; and, by Gad!
he drawled out in a most horribly natural voice that he'd
come when he dashed well pleased!  I nearly jumped out of my
skin!''

  Appin had preached to absolutely incredulous hearers; Sir
Wilfred's statement carried instant conviction.  A
Babel-like chorus of startled exclamation arose, amid which
the scientist sat mutely enjoying the first fruit of his
stupendous discovery.

  In the midst of the clamour Tobermory entered the room and
made his way with velvet tread and studied unconcern across
to the group seated round the tea-table.

  A sudden hush of awkwardness and constraint fell on the
company.  Somehow there seemed an element of embarrassment
in addressing on equal terms a domestic cat of acknowledged
mental ability.

  ``Will you have some milk, Tobermory?'' asked Lady Blemley
in a rather strained voice.

  ``I don't mind if I do,'' was the response, couched in a
tone of even indifference.  A shiver of suppressed
excitement went through the listeners, and Lady Blemley
might be excused for pouring out the saucerful of milk
rather unsteadily.

  ``I'm afraid I've spilt a good deal of it,'' she said
apologetically.

  ``After all, it's not my Axminster,'' was Tobermory's
rejoinder.

  Another silence fell on the group, and then Miss Resker,
in her best district-visitor manner, asked if the human
language had been difficult to learn.  Tobermory looked
squarely at her for a moment and then fixed his gaze
serenely on the middle distance.  It was obvious that boring
questions lay outside his scheme of life.

  ``What do you think of human intelligence?'' asked Mavis
Pellington lamely.

  ``Of whose intelligence in particular?'' asked Tobermory
coldly.

  ``Oh, well, mine for instance,'' said Mavis, with a feeble
laugh.

  ``You put me in an embarrassing position,'' said
Tobermory, whose tone and attitude certainly did not suggest
a shred of embarrassment.  ``When your inclusion in this
house-party was suggested Sir Wilfrid protested that you
were the most brainless woman of his acquaintance, and that
there was a wide distinction between hospitality and the
care of the feeble-minded.  Lady Blemley replied that your
lack of brain-power was the precise quality which had earned
you your invitation, as you were the only person she could
think of who might be idiotic enough to buy their old car.
You know, the one they call `The Envy of Sisyphus,' because
it goes quite nicely up-hill if you push it.''

  Lady Blemley's protestations would have had greater effect
if she had not casually suggested to Mavis only that morning
that the car in question would be just the thing for her
down at her Devonshire home.

  Major Barfield plunged in heavily to effect a diversion.

  ``How about your carryings-on with the tortoise-shell puss
up at the stables, eh?''

  The moment he had said it every one realized the blunder.

  ``One does not usually discuss these matters in public,''
said Tobermory frigidly.  ``From a slight observation of
your ways since you've been in this house I should imagine
you'd find it inconvenient if I were to shift the
conversation on to your own little affairs.''

  The panic which ensued was not confined to the Major.