Lindsay.

Poor Cicely never dared to retire without first having a thorough
examination to assure herself that no lurking rodent was lying hidden
behind the wardrobe, or in any other obscure corner. One evening she was
making her usual round, armed with a tennis racket for protection, and
was peeping under the bed, when she suddenly let the valance fall
hurriedly, and drew back with a shriek.

"There's a rat there! I saw it quite plainly; its great big eyes were
glaring at me!" she announced in a trembling voice.

"What are we to do?" exclaimed Lindsay, in equal consternation.

"Call for Miss Frazer this instant. She hasn't gone downstairs yet."

"Don't disturb it on any account!" decreed Miss Russell, who was fetched
from the drawing-room to cope with the emergency. "I shall send at once
for Scott, the gardener, and ask him to bring his terrier dog. We must
really take some measures to destroy these pests."

It was not very long before Scott arrived. He clumped solemnly up the
stairs with a thick stick in his hand, and Bill, his sharp little fox
terrier, at his heels. Mrs. Wilson accompanied him, bearing the kitchen
poker; and the parlour-maid followed, holding the yard dog by the
collar, in case Bill should miss his prey. Miss Frazer and Miss
Humphreys were there to support Miss Russell; while Mademoiselle and a
great many of the girls hovered outside in the passage, half-frightened
and half-excited over the coming fray.

"If you'll please to tell me where the young lady saw it, mum," said
Scott, "I'll let Bill on it sudden. He's death on rats."

"It was just at the foot of the bed," quavered Cicely. Scott stooped,
and raised the valance with the greatest precaution. Bill sniffed
eagerly, but he did not pounce upon any concealed victim.

"There's nothing there, mum--leastways no rat," said Scott,
straightening his back.

"Are you sure?" gasped Miss Russell. "It couldn't possibly have
escaped."

"I think it's been a little mistake of the young lady's, mum," said
Scott, suppressing a grin. "If you'll kindly take a look under the bed,
you'll see for yourself."

Miss Russell hastened to comply, and, bending down, gave an exclamation
as she drew out one of Lindsay's best Sunday gloves.

"What an extraordinary illusion!" she cried. "I don't wonder Cicely took
it for a rat. The soft doeskin is exactly the same colour, and the
buttons were gleaming just like two bright eyes. I never saw a more
perfect resembl