und the things I sold made it possible for me to buy almost
everything in The Trellis House. Tappin & Edge say that I got a great
bargain."

"Yes," said Radmore hesitatingly, "I expect you did."

But all the same he felt that his pretty friend had made a mistake, for
he remembered some of Colonel Crofton's furniture as having been very
good. In the bedroom in which he had slept at Fildy Fe Manor there had
been a walnut-wood tallboy of the best Jacobean period. That one piece
must certainly have been worth more than all the furniture in this
particular room put together.

Poor Enid Crofton! The call to which she had been looking forward so
greatly was not turning out a success. Godfrey Radmore seemed a very
different man here, in Beechfield, from what he had seemed in London.
They talked in a desultory way, with none of the pleasant, cosy, intimacy
to which she had insensibly accustomed him; and though Timmy remained
absolutely quiet and silent after that unfortunate accident with the
stool, his presence in some way affected the atmosphere.

All at once Radmore asked:--"And where's Boo-boo? It's odd I never
thought of asking you in London, but somehow one expects to see a dog in
the country, even as highly civilised and smart a little dog as Boo-boo!"

"I sold her," answered Mrs. Crofton, in a low, pained tone. "I got L40
for her, and a most awfully good home. Still," she sighed, "of course I
miss my darling little Boo--" and then a sharp tremor ran through her,
for there suddenly fell on her ears the sound of a dog, howling.

Now Enid Crofton did not believe that what she heard so clearly were real
howls, proceeding from a flesh-and-blood dog. She thought that her nerves
were betraying her, as they had a way of doing since her husband's death.
Often when she fell asleep, there would come to her a strange and
horrible nightmare. It was such a queer, uncanny kind of dream for a
grown-up woman to have! She used to dream that she was a rat--and that
Colonel Crofton's own terrier, a fierce brute called Dandy, was after
her.

"That's Flick! Perhaps I'd better go and let him out?" Timmy jumped up
as he spoke. "I thought you didn't like dogs, Mrs. Crofton, and so I shut
Flick up in your stable-yard. I expect he's got bored, being in there
all by himself, in the dark!"

The boy's words brought delicious relief, and then, all at once, she
felt unreasonably angry. How stupid of this odious little fellow to have
brought hi