Says Mrs. Grimley to me a settin' over our teas, "I wonder Mrs. Brown as you don't send your Tom to the Cat Show, at the Chrystshul Pallis, as I'm a goin' to take mine to."

"Law," I says, 'he'd take and break 'is 'art if he was to be shet up and showed tho' in a Pallis, as is free 'arted cat, and I'm sure don't think as there's no place like 'ome, for he's as reglar into supper every night as clockwork; and waits for Brown to put 'im down a plate with bits on it jest outside the back door for all the world like a christshun, for I never will 'ave no hanimiles fed in the rooms, for tho' werry well in their places, I wouldn't keep a dirty dog or cat, not if they was my own parents, that I wouldn't."

"Well," says Mrs. Grimley, "I think if you didn't get a prize like Mrs. Abrams, you might be 'onerable mentioned over your cat like Mrs. Savory, through bein' a tortoiseshell tom, as is worth their weights in gold only he'd lost his tail thro' a trap, as were considered a blemish, so couldn't rank among the first class."

I says, "Mrs. Grimley, cats is werry well in their places, as I don't consider palisses, not but what our cat might be trusted in Queen Wictoria's own bed room, as wouldn't think no more of jumping on to a clean white quilt than he would of flyin'."

Says Mrs. Grimley, "I wish as you'd come along with me and see them cats as is as wild as tigers some on 'em I've 'eard say up in Scotland."

"Ah," I says, "them Scotch cats is a fierce lot thro' bein' that overfed, as in course makes 'em saucy, but," I says, "I don't fancy takin' all that trouble over a cat."

Says Mrs. Grimley, "Bless your 'art some of them cats is worth tremenjous sums, and one on 'em wallied at five 'undred pounds."

I says, "Five 'undred pounds of what?"

She says, "Money to be sure."

"Well then," I says, "I'll go and see that one, as must 'ave two tails or somethink to be that wally, for in a general way cat's is things as you may 'ave for askin', and I 'ave knowed parties as 'ave give the butcher boy sixpence to take one away."

Says Mrs. Grimley, "Come on then as to morrow is the last day, and can meet at the London Bridge Station."

It were a fine day that Thursday though now and then a shower, as I met Mrs. Grimley on the stroke of three at London Bridge, as were full late 'erself so 'ad to 'urry to ketch the train, as took second class tickets, tho' they might as well have been third, as it turned out in the end and never would 'ave come if I'd 'ave knowed as Mrs. Grimley 'ad brought her Tibby, as she called it, under her waterproof, as kept on a-mewin' and I couldn't think for ever so long where it came from, till at last she let it out as she wanted for to compare 'im with some as were there, as she felt certing as he'd 'old 'is own agin.

I didn't say nothink, but was werry much wexed, afeelin' as she were a-behavin' foolish in bringin' of a cat into a strange place, as is a timid hanimile.

I says to 'er, "Mrs. Grimley, wotever you do see as the basket is fastened."

She says, "Law bless you, I ain't got 'im in a basket, as would fight like mad if shet up, but a lamb in my arms."

"Well," I says, "you know your own busyness best," and jest then the train stopped and out we got, and on the stairs jest as I were a stoppin' to take breath she turns round and shows me 'er cat, as were a white with one eye green and the other blue, and in course deaf as a beadle, as the sayin' is, as is the way with all them white cats. The poor thing looked werry much scarrified, and were agoin' to fly out of 'er arms, and scratched and clawed at Mrs. Grimley, and swore a good deal.

The man as were a takin' of the tickets, turns round, and says, "You can't bring that cat in."

Says Mrs. Grimley, "Why not? I've come to show 'im."

"Oh " says the man, "you did ought to 'ave entered 'im proper, he can't be showed like that."

Then says she, "If he don't go in, no more won't I."

I says, "Don't be foolish, 'avin' took your ticket with the rail, leave 'im somewheres till we comes out."

Well, I see as she wanted to go in, and as the party at the luggage-room said as she'd take charge on 'im in a basket, she were persuaded to leave the beast, as kep' on a-cryin' like a child.

I cannot say as I cares for that Chrystshul Pallis, partikler of a dull day, thro' a feelin’ ‘ot and stifly, and a lookin' dreary.

There was crowds there, as you wouldn't 'ave thought would 'ave cared about cats, and I'm sure werry few see 'em, for they was all put together in cages, and too low for any one to see over any one else's 'ead, and there was Perlice and parties a tellin' of you to keep a movin', as is a thing I can't abear, to be hordered about by them "Jack in hoffice" as the sayin' is. Well, I'd soon see enuf of the cats, as I've seen quite as fine a layin' on the walls all about us of a sunshiny day, and as to five 'undred pounds being the wally of one, as I says to Mrs. Grimley, why not say five thousand while you're about it?

So after bein' squeezed, and pushed, and trod on, and ordered about, I says, "Let's 'ave our tea."
Mrs. Grimley ain't never loth for meals, so accordin' we went and set down near one of them refreshment bars at a little marble table, and there we might 'ave set till now, if I 'adn't ketched a waiter's leg with my umbreller, arter tryin' to ketch 'is eye in wain.

All as I've got to say is if you wants your tea, wait till you gets 'ome for it; and whyevor that Chrystshul Pallis can't give you a nice roll and butter instead of flabby sort of bread, I can't think, but they knows their busyness best, and wot their customers likes, tho' they must have got the bread and cake too, for a lot of poor children as 'ad been brought to that Pallis for a treat, I should say as is wot I never considers it myself.

Arter we'd 'ad a cup of tea, as the cats was a welcome to my share on, we walked about but saw it were werry dismal, and that there big organ were a-playin' a werry dreary toon as sounded jest like a melancholy penny whistle a-bein' blowed mournful. I see as Mrs. Giimley were all of a-fidget about 'er cat so we agreed as we'd go, and so we did, and found the poor beast in a reglar fury as didn’t seem to know Mrs. Grimley 'ardly, but quieted it at last in 'er arms. When we got on the platform for the train, all the carridges was full but the third-class, as we scrambled into all of a 'urry jest as it were off.

I let Mrs. Grimley get in fust through bein' loaded with that there cat, and in gettin' up my foot it ketched in my gownd jest as the train were off, I pitched forard and knocks agin Mrs. Grimley, as were lookin' out for a seat and sent the cat a-flyin' from under 'er harm as bounded like a ball all through the carridges. There was a pretty 'ow-d'ye-do. Some parties screamed, and 'it out at the cat, as flew along with 'is tail like a bottle brush, some tried to ketch 'im and at last one man as 'ad two children with 'im, as certingly that cat 'ad scratched the arms on, a shriekin' frightful, ketched 'old on 'er by the scuff of the neck, as the saying is, and pitched 'er slap out of the winder. I do think as Mrs. Grimley would 'ave killed 'im if she'd 'ave got at as I 'ad to 'old 'er arms not to try and make a grab at 'im, as said she'd give 'im in charge and all manner, but when we got to London Bridge the tables was turned, as the sayin' is, for if that man didn't take and give us in charge, and we should have been locked up but for givin' our address to the inspector, as that man said we 'adn't 'eard the last on it.

But wot put me out wore Mrs Grimley a-layin' it all to me and gettin' that warm over it, as I ‘ailed a cab and got in it and drove 'ome without never wishin’ ‘er good night, and all as I've got to say is as I considers that Chrystshul Pallis lets itself down with a cat show, cos although we all knows as a cat may look at a king, as the sayin' is, a cat ain't a thing as a king cares to look at not in a Chrystshul Pallis any 'ow.

[Only part of this tale is of interest from a cat point of view, the rest is melodramatic.]
The pure snow lay thickly on the ground. There was a solemn hush over the landscape; the wide lawns, broad fields, and low hedges looked lovely in their covering of white. The ornamental waters were spellbound in quietude, held in icy grasp. Trees and shrubs were decked with crystals and their branches bent beneath the weight of nature’s jewellery. The stillness and cold peace of the winter scene was soon disturbed by black figures creeping stealthily across the snow. Suddenly the ears of watchers were assailed by sobbing crier, as of some poor babe in agony. Again and again these arose and died away on the still midnight air. Was it the ghost of some waif condemned to wander thus around its former home? Or some earthly little one, lost on this cold winter’s night? No, Mr Charles' ejaculation of “Bother those cats," as he turned in his comfortable bed and pulled the bedclothes over his ears, was the true solution of those heart-rending cries.

One by one the wanderers of the night crept up to the hothouse fire, seeking in the shelter of its genial warmth pleasant company to wile away the hours of the night. Seven cats crouched on the ground, blinking in the ruddy glow of the hospitable stove, which cast a brilliant light on the chill snow. Quarrels will occur, however, even in the cat world; thus, alas, do human foibles exist throughout the animal kingdom. Masters and mistresses with their petty proud reserve, and virtuous indignation at neighbours who dare to be kinder, truer,and better-hearted than themselves, find their faults exactly imitated in the behaviour of their cats and dogs. Bickerings and unkind words are sure to come sooner or later, whether the assemblage be one of cats or their vastly superior masters and mistresses.

Sure enough, these toms had not long settled before an old sandy, who had been diligently licking his paws, looked up, and exclaimed, "Well, this is pretty piece of impertinence. I should like to know what right you have to come to this 'high and mighty society for the general disturbance of the neighbourhood by cat-calls.’ This is a club exclusively for gentlemen of high birth, living in good families; not for any lowborn cat, with no more good sense than to thrust himself into the company of his betters." So saying, Sandy fiercely erected bis back and unsheathed his sharp claws.

This tirade was addressed to very demure looking black tom. No time was given him to answer, for the whole circle set up calls of protest and anger at the daring impertinence of an outsider coming into their aristocratic club. A general scrimmage ensued; which, there were six against one, would have gone badly with the demure looking blackie had not Sandy, who seemed a kind of president, placed himself by the side of the offender, and exclaimed, "Well. Let us hear what he has to say in excuse for his Insolence. If it is not satisfactory, then we will play with him we would with a mouse, and when the morning dawns, either kill him or set him free bleeding and wounded by our claws. That would be a warning to other impertinent cats not to thrust their company on their betters. His tale may amuse us, and now I look at him more closely he seems like the cat from the Priory.”

Objection was made to this by some of the other cats, who were always ready for a fight over anything or nothing, but they were finally over-ruled and Blackie was placed in the centre of the circle. He had risen when the others showed fight and prepared nature’s weapons, but gave no sign of fear. When asked by Sandy "what he had to say for himself," he looked round with a haughty glance before he answered.

“l live in as good a family as any of you. My home is the Priory, and I came here to-night because I have been out on some private business. On my return I found the doors closed and the house shut up. Here I shall stay as long as I choose, if have to fight you all for my place - he paused a moment, and then added, “I am quite willing, however, to be made a member of your club, if you will admit me.”

“Oh! the Priory is your home, is it?” said a large grey cat. "I remember seeing you on that young lady’s couch when she used to lie at the window. But you don’t call that a respectable house, do you? Why, I heard the milkman tell our cook when she took in the pint of milk which missus orders especially for me - but of which cook never gives me a drop - that ‘things looked very fishy at the Priory,’ and for his part he didn't think it was all square. ‘When a man was as downhearted and looked as black as your master, it stood to common sense he must have something on his conscience.’ And cook, she agreed with him, and said she had’‘eard tell from a servant, who was in the place at the time, as to how when Miss Ada had disgraced the family, she was that low-spirited you could scarcely speak to her but she burst out crying.’ “

“I heard my master exclaim, when mistress said she should call on that sweet young lady a the Priory, how dare you suggest calling? We know nothing about her, and from all I can hear, she is not fit for a married woman like you to visit," said a small and black and white cat; which was licking itself in a self-righteous manner.

“Miss Delaware, with whom I live,” said a prim tom, “told Miss Spriggs, when she came to tea, that Mary Jane, the housemaid, had told her the lady at the Priory was not so good as she might be, so I think it is not right that a cat belonging to such a house should associate with respectable animals.”

“Shut up about respectability,” said Sandy; “I daresay Miss Delaware is not so quiet aa she looks; the good ones are always the wont. What have you to say?” he added, turning to Blckie. “Who and what is your master, and what was he to your mistress? Come, tell us all about them. It will be interesting to know how far the busy-bodies are from the truth.”

Blackie was silent for a few moments before looked up and said: “The story of their lives is very sad. My heart has often ached for troubles I had no power to comfort, but I will tell you, for I am sure you will all agree when I have finished my tala that not a shadow of blame rests on either the living or the dead.”

Mews of satisfaction were heard from all the cats, they settled comfortably to enjoy the true version of story they had heard in all conceivable forms, in the kitchens and the drawing rooms of their aristocratic homes.

Blackie cleared his throat and then commenced. “I was a tiny kitten of two months old when I was given to Lily Harding, my beloved mistress. I was very glad to leave my first home. What with the servants continually tumbling over me, exclaiming, 'Drat that kitten, it’s always in the way,' never thinking of my inconvenience when a great foot came on my back. Then the cook would alternately overfeed or starve my mother and myself. To say nothing of a saucepan or dishcloth thrown at us when cook was in a temper. So you see life was not all pleasure in Brunswick-square. Lily took me to a beautiful home in the country, where I had everything a cat’s heart could desire. I slept before the fire in her bedroom, in a basket lined with white flannel and pink silk, and during the day I was scarcely out of her sight. One day, after I had been in my new home some time, I fell asleep on my mistress’ lap, tired out by a game of play. I awoke hearing the deep tones of a man’s voice speaking earnestly and rapidly. It was Herbert Devereux; a grave quiet man, who had been a constant visitor ever since I had been at the house. He always seemed very fond of me, bringing me all sorts of playthings, caressing and fondling me whenever he came. That day, however, neither he not Lily took any notice of me. . . [Mr Devereux tells Lily he has something to tell her about his former life.]

After a moment’s pause, during which my mistress stroke my hair the wrong way – an infliction I bore with great patience . . . [When younger, Mr Devereux had married an older woman who abused him and then boarded a ship to America with his money and valuables. The ship had been lost at sea and Mr Devereux settled down to a bachelor’s life. He propsed to Lily.]

Next moment I was in danger of coming to an untimely end, only springing of Lily’s lap just in time, as my mistress and future master sealed their engagement with a long lover’s kiss. [They wed, but Lily has a sense of foreboding]

Blackie paused here, and looked mournfully into the fire. Constant association with his mistress had made him more like a human being than a cat; and the story he was relating evidently touched him deeply. The impatient mews of he other cats, however, soon recalled his thoughts and he continued. [The first wife turns up at the marital home, taunting Lily and accusing Herbert of bigamy. Herbert installs Lily, his true love at the Priory and visits her regularly. His first wife has first claim on him. Lily is melancholy. Herbert arrives and tells her his first wife is dead, Lily, crushed by life’s troubles, is dying.] She soon lay back too exhausted to speak. In a little while her eyes opened; she gave her husband one sweet smile, made a last effort to draw her hand along my fur, and then – It was in vain I caressed the cold hand that had so often fondled me.

By 1898, cat shows were featuring in popular fiction. These early shows were selling shows; a price was put upon the entry by the exhibitor and if the exhibitor didn't wish to sell their exhibit, the price was set prohibitively high.

It was Miss Janet Gordon who suggested the name of " Laburnum Villa," and her elder sister promptly agreed that no title could be more suitable. Was there not a laburnum tree on either side of the gate ? True, they were but seven feet high, but they flowered bravely, making a golden archway for a brief three weeks every year. Miss Janet Gordon was three years younger than her sister, and their united ages made a total of 117 years. I would not for worlds be more explicit on such a delicate subject. Miss Adelaide Gordon always affected a costume of black and purple; her sister, black and pink. Black was suitable to their time of life, they said, and economical withal. Laburnum Villa stood about fifty yards back from the village street. You reached the front door By a narrow gravel path, with a small lawn on the left, and a border, gay with flowers, on the right. Everything about Laburnum Villa was small, including its tenants, the two Misses Gordon. Some people went so far as to say you needed magnifying glasses to see the house at all, but this wTas a gross exaggeration. The smallest thing of all was the Misses Gordon’s annual income. I think it was the constant effort to make that sum supply the necessaries of existence that had sown so many anxious lines on their faces. In winter, when the little ladies shivered with cold, an extra woollen shawl had to be put on, instead of resorting to the simpler expedient of another shovel of coals on the tiny fire. Also, there is a certain monotony in bread and cheese as the invariable menu for supper; but the Misses Gordon would partake of it with admirable appetites, and look all the while, with beaming eyes, at the further end of the table, where were placed a large saucer of thick, rich milk, and a small plate, on which lay a dainty slice of liver.

" While we can afford that " Miss Adelaide would begin sometimes, and then break off as though words failed her; and Miss Janet would reply—

" My dear sister, we cannot be too thankful."

I hasten to explain away the wrong impression which this gratitude might create. These viands did not represent the Misses Gordon’s second course, but Peter’s supper. Whoever felt the pinch of poverty at Laburnum Villa, it was not Peter. If I have not alluded to Peter before, it is because the most important personage should always be mentioned last. Peter was seven years old, and the largest and finest cat you ever saw. Excuse me; your cat, no doubt, is a very fine one, but he could not possibly equal Peter. I have had the honour of Peter’s acquaintance, and can endorse the Misses Gordon’s opinion that he was the biggest, furriest, handsomest, and altogether most superlative cat ever seen. It would be impossible to describe or realise what that cat was to the little couple. Peter was their first thought in the morning, their last at night. In summer, when Miss Gordon gardened, he would sit demurely on the gravel walk, superintending the planting, digging, and watering. Or he would accompany Miss Janet to the fowls’ yard and watch the distribution of grain through the bars of the gate with an impartial eye. Occasionally he would forget his seven years and sport with the butterflies on the lawn; but, man-like, he always required an audience, and never unbent when alone. His favourite pastime was to hang suspended from the topmost branches of any small tree, to the admiration and terror of his mistresses, who momentarily expected to see him fall a mangled corpse at their feet. But when Miss Janet had rushed into the house to tell Jane to bring the step-ladder, and Miss Adelaide had held her gardening apron out for five minutes to break his fall, he would suddenly regain terra firma with a skill and agility all his own. Then there was a chorus of " Oh ! naughty pussy. How you frightened us! Peter, you must never do that again," etc., etc. After which, the hero would be carried into the house and supplied with milk and other restoratives.

One hot July afternoon Miss Adelaide had a slight headache and was unable to accompany her sister on their usual walk. Punctually at five o’clock Miss Janet returned, and her sister detected at once that something unusual had occurred.

" What is the matter, Janet ? "

" Is your head better, dear ? Yes ? Well, then, you really must give a guess at my news; but you will never, never guess right, Adelaide. Such an excitement for us, my dear. I will give you one hint. Something is going to happen at Lisbury."

Miss Adelaide wrinkled her brow. "At Lisbury ? A missionary meeting, my dear ? "

" No ; oh, no ! " Miss Janet clapped her hands with merriment; the jet bugles on her bonnet danced in sympathy with the joke.

" Guess once more, dear."

" A bazaar ? "

"No. I really must tell you. A Cat Show! Just think, Adelaide! With prizes! Where is Peter ? "

"In the garden." Miss Adelaide rose like a war-horse scenting the battle.

" Lie still, my dear. I will call him." Miss Janet tripped to the window and called " Pete—Pete—Pee—ter ! "

A rush, a spring, and Peter’s large furry person was on the sill. It was tea-time, and his expectant purrs filled the room.

" He should go to a cat show," cried Miss Janet, " and get the first prize—yes, he should. See, Adelaide, I have brought a handbill. August 9th is the date. ‘The price of each cat to be clearly marked.’ "

" Everybody will want to buy Peter, won’t they?" said Miss Adelaide, with a ripple of delight.

" Of course they will; but, Adelaide, we must be careful and put an absolutely prohibitive price on him. What would you suggest ? "

Miss Adelaide deliberated for some time. " Twenty pounds, I think," she said at length.

" My dear sister! What an enormous sum ! But I suppose it would be safer. Think of seeing Peter surrounded by people longing to buy him if they only had enough money ! "

The Misses Gordon thought the days went by very slowly. They longed to display Peter’s charms to an admiring and envious crowd. On the morning of the eventful day they came downstairs in their best Sunday gowns and bonnets. Peter was stretched at full length on the lawn, basking lazily in the sun. He was startled and annoyed when Miss Janet swooped round the corner, picked him up in her arms, and started off with her sister to the station. Miss Janet was very tiny and Peter was very large, and although it was quite a short walk her arms began to ache sadly. Peter’s sweet temper, too, was ruffled. He had only just finished a heavy breakfast of bread and milk, and Miss Janet’s brisk walking jogged him up and down most unceremoniously. He began to wriggle, and endeavoured to escape. To his amazement he found that for the first time in his life his wishes were going to be disregarded. It was inconceivable !

" I shall be sick directly, I know I shall, if this goes on much longer," he reflected dismally.

The sisters arrived at the station only just in time to plunge into the nearest third class carriage. Peter absolutely refused to lie quietly on either lap, their lace cloaks made him hot. He was rapidly becoming very cross. Fortunately the journey was a brief one; but when they reached the Town Hall, and Peter found himself being put in a wire cage, to which a large card with his class and price was attached — and, in addition, a hot scarlet ribbon tied round his neck—he lost his temper completely. The two little ladies were bursting with pride at this triumphant result of their labours, but Peter wagged his tail furiously and expressed his disapproval in every hair.

" Good-bye, darling, darling" said the little sisters, " we shall come back this afternoon, Peter, and hear everybody admiring our lovely pussy. Peter, darling, kiss me," and Miss Janet knelt on the dusty floor and put her face to the wire cage, regardless of spectators. But Peter refused. He was furious at the trick played upon him; he wanted his soft, green lawn, and he swore at Miss Janet and dashed his angry tail against the bars. Miss Janet rose hurriedly and without another look at him hurried out of the hall. Neither sister spoke for a long time; then Miss Janet said tremulously—

"He doesn’t like it, dear Adelaide; I wish we had known."

"Oh, well!" said Miss Adelaide, with determined cheerfulness, " It is only until five o’clock, and he will forget all about it when he is home again."

" I never dreamed he would dislike it," faltered Miss Janet, and she could not enjoy the Lisbury shop windows as she had anticipated, because of a continuous mist before her eyes.

At half past four the Misses Gordon hurried back to the Town Hall. Without looking to the right or left the sisters worked their way through the crowd until they reached Peter.

"Pe " they began simultaneously, but the word died away on their lips. Another card was hung on Peter’s cage, and it bore the word " Sold " in large red letters. Miss Adelaide turned very white, but Miss Janet flew to the nearest attendant and grasped the man’s arm.

" What—what does this mean?" she stammered, pointing to the card, her voice harsh and strained.

" The cat was bought, ma’am, almost directly we opened," said the man, with a broad grin of congratulation.

" Bought ? " gasped the old ladies.

" Yes, ma’am. By Mr. Anstruther, the American gent. I heard him say he was in luck to get such a fine specimen. Colonel Ross will tell you about it, ma'am."

The two little figures stood there gazing at Peter without moving or speaking. Peter had quite got over his fit of sulks. He was tired and cramped, and wanted to be let out and taken home. He mewed to that effect and stretched his furry paws through the bars towards his mistresses. What had come over them to change them like this ?

It was more than the old ladies could stand. They did not cry or faint, but there came a loud buzzing in their ears ; the hall, with all the cages, began to turn round and round, and above everything sounded Peter’s plaintive cries.

" We must find Colonel Ross," said Miss Adelaide at last in a husky whisper. The manager of the Cat Show knew the Misses Gordon well. He started up with concern when the sisters appeared before him, pale and wild-eyed.

" My dear ladies " he began, but Miss Adelaide interrupted. In a few sentences she had poured out the whole tragedy. Colonel Ross’s eyes began to twinkle mutinously, but the miserable faces sobered him.

" I will go and tell Anstruther at once," he said kindly; " don’t you fret, Miss Gordon, Miss Janet. I am sure he will give the cat back. Pray sit down — I won’t be long."

Not a word passed between the two old ladies during his absence. When they heard his returning footsteps they jumped up in an agony of suspense.

"Anstruther was very loth to give him up, I can tell you," said the Colonel smiling; " but I prevailed upon him, so you can go and rescue Peter when you please."

" Oh, Colonel Ross! " cried the old ladies, and there were tears in each voice.

" Quite so, quite so," said the Colonel hastily, in deadly terror of hysterics; " suppose we go and let him out at once ? "

The sisters followed him in silence. Colonel Ross beckoned to the attendant to unlock the cage, and Peter stepped out, purring, triumphant. In an instant Miss Janet had him tightly clasped in her arms, and Miss Adelaide smothered his broad head with kisses. They were trotting out of the hall in a tremendous hurry when a thought suddenly struck them.

" Oh! Colonel Ross, we have never thanked you," they said breathlessly, and Miss Janet added incoherently, "Forgive our rudeness, pray, but the thought of losing him has been such a shock to us."

" And you have thrown twenty pounds into the gutter, Miss Janet," said the Colonel, shaking his head gravely.

" But we have got Peter back! " cried the Misses Gordon in an ecstatic duet.

And such being the case, it was surely superfluous of the old ladies to cry over their recovered treasure all the way home.