struck me that he ought to know something about the matter.
Anyhow, he was the nearest approach to a vet that I could find."

Mrs. Keith looked at him thoughtfully. "You seem to have a curious way
of reasoning. But what did the man say?"

"His first remark was, 'Nom d'une pipe!' and he added something more
which I couldn't catch, but when we became friends he promised to
engage the services of a dog-fancier friend of his."

"You imagined that a dog-fancier would specialize in cats?"

Millicent's eyes twinkled, but Mrs. Keith's face was serious and
Blake's perfectly grave.

"I don't know that I argued the matter out. To tell the truth, I
undertook the thing on impulse."

"So it seems. You considered it necessary to make friends with the
French-Canadian taxidermist?"

"Not necessary, perhaps." Blake appeared to reflect. "Still, it's a
way of mine, and the fellow interested me by the tragic manner in which
he broke his pipe when I first showed him the cat. His indignation was
superb."

Mrs. Keith gave him a look of rather grim amusement. "I see, but you
haven't told me what became of my hamper."

"The hamper was unfortunately smashed. The car was not allowed to stop
where I wished to get off and I had to jump. I miscalculated the speed
and fell down, after which, as there was a good deal of traffic, a
transfer wagon ran over the hamper, luckily without hurting the animal
inside. I left it at a basket shop and that explains the cloak. My
friend the taxidermist insisted on lending it and his winter gloves to
me. One looks rather conspicuous walking through the streets with a
bob-cat on one's arm."

Then, to Blake's astonishment, Mrs. Keith broke into a soft laugh.

"I understand it all," she said. "It was a prank one would expect you
to play. Though it's a very long time since I saw you, you haven't
changed, Dick. Now take that ridiculous cloak off and come back and
talk to me."

When Blake returned Millicent had gone and Mrs. Keith noticed the
glance he cast about the room.

"I sent Miss Graham away," she said. "You have been here some days.
Why didn't you tell me who you were?"

"I'll confess that I knew you. You have changed much less than I have,
but I wasn't sure you would be willing to acknowledge me."

"Then you were very wrong. One may be forgiven a first offence and I
never quite agreed with the popular opinion about what you were
supposed to have done. It wasn't like you; the