`Heaviness may endure for a night: but joy cometh in themorning.' The next day found me quite another being. Even the memoriesof my lost friend and companion were sunny as the genial weather that smiledaround me. I did not venture to trouble Lady Muriel, or her father, withanother call so soon: but took a walk into the country, and only turnedhomewards when the low sunbeams warned me that day would soon be over.

On my way home, I passed the cottage where the old manlived, whose face always recalled to me the day when I first met Lady Muriel;and I glanced in as I passed, half-curious to see if he were still livingthere.

Yes: the old man was still alive. He was sitting out inthe porch, looking just as he did when I first saw him at Fayfield Junction--itseemed only a few days ago!

`Good evening!' I said, pausing.

`Good evening, Maister!' he cheerfully responded. `Wo'n'tee step in?'

I stepped in, and took a seat on the bench in the porch.`I'm glad to see you looking so hearty,' I began. `Last time, I remember,I chanced to pass just as Lady Muriel was coming away from the house. Doesshe still come to see you?'

`Ees,' he answered slowly. `She has na forgotten me. Idon't lose her bonny face for many days together. Well I mind the veryfirst time she come, after we'd met at Railway Station. She told me asshe come to mak' amends. Dear child! Only think o' that! To mak' amends!'

`To make amends for what?' I enquired. `What could shehave done to need it?'

`Well, it were loike this, you see? We were both on usa-waiting fur t' train at t' Junction. And I had setten mysen down upatt' bench. And Station-Maister, he comes and he orders me off--fur t' mak'room for her Ladyship, you understand?'

`I remember it all,' I said. `I was there myself, thatday.'

`Was you, now? Well, an' she axes my pardon fur 't. Thinko' that, now! My pardon! An owd ne'er-do-weel like me! Ah! She's been heremany a time, sin' then. Why, she were in here only yestere'en, as it were,a-sittin', as it might be, where you're a-sitting now, an' lookin' sweeterand kinder nor an angel! An' she says "You've not got your Minnie, now,"she says, "to fettle for ye." Minnie was my grand-daughter, Sir, as livedwi' me. She died, a matter of two months ago--or it may be three. She wasa bonny lass--and a good lass, too. Eh, but life has been rare an' lonelywithout her!'

He covered his face in his hands: and I waited a minuteor two, in silence, for him to recover himself.

`So she says, "Just tak' me fur your Minnie!" she says."Didna Minnie mak' your tea fur you?" says she. "Ay," says I. An' she mak'sthe tea. "An' didna Minnie light your pipe?" says she. "Ay," says I. An'she lights the pipe for me. "An' didna Minnie set out your tea in t' porch?"An' I says "My dear," I says, "I'm thinking you're Minnie hersen!" An'she cries a bit. We both on us cries a bit--'

Again I kept silence for a while.

`An' while I smokes my pipe, she sits an' talks to me--asloving an' as pleasant! I'll be bound I thowt it were Minnie come again!An' when she gets up to go, I says "Winnot ye shak' hands wi' me?" saysI. An' she says "Na," she says: "a cannot shak' hands wi' thee!" she says.'

`I'm sorry she said that,' I put in, thinking it was theonly instance I had ever known of pride of rank showing itself in LadyMuriel.

`Bless you, it werena pride!' said the old man, readingmy thoughts. `She says "Your Minnie never shook hands wi' you!" she says."An' I'm your Minnie now," she says. An' she just puts her dear arms aboutmy neck--and she kisses me on t' cheek--an' may God in Heaven bless her!'And here the poor old man broke down entirely, and could say no more.

`God bless her!' I echoed. `And good night to you!' Ipressed his hand, and left him. `Lady Muriel,' I said softly to myselfas I went homewards, `truly you know how to "mak' amends"!'

Seated once more by my lonely fireside, I tried to recallthe strange vision of the night before, and to conjure up the face of thedear old Professor among the blazing coals. `That black one--with justa touch of red--would suit him well,' I thought. `After such a catastrophe,it would be sure to be covered with black stains--and he would say:

`The result of that combination--you may have noticed?--wasan Explosion! Shall I repeat the Experiment?'

`No, no! Don't trouble yourself!' was the general cry.And we all trooped off, in hot haste, to the Banqueting-Hall, where thefeast had already begun.

No time was lost in helping the dishes, and very speedilyevery guest found his plate filled with good things.

`I have always maintained the principle,' the Professorbegan, `that it is a good rule to take some food--occasionally. The greatadvantage of dinner-parties--' he broke off suddenly. `Why, actually here'sthe Other Professor!' he cried. `And there's no place left for him!'

The Other Professor came in reading a large book, whichhe held close to his eyes. One result of his not looking where he was goingwas that he tripped up, as he crossed the Saloon, flew up into the air,and fell heavily on his face in the middle of the table.

`What a pity!' cried the kind-hearted Professor, as hehelped him up.

`It wouldn't be me, if I didn't trip,' said the OtherProfessor.

The Professor looked much shocked. `Almost anything wouldbe better than that!' he exclaimed. `It never does,' he added, aside toBruno, `to be anybody else, does it?'

To which Bruno gravely replied `I's got nuffin on my plate.'

The Professor hastily put on his spectacles, to make surethat the facts were all right, to begin with: then he turned his jollyround face upon the unfortunate owner of the empty plate. `And what wouldyou like next, my little man?'

`Well,' Bruno said, a little doubtfully, `I think I'lltake some plum-pudding, please--while I think of it.'

`Oh, Bruno!' (This was a whisper from Sylvie.) `It isn'tgood manners to ask for a dish before it comes!'

And Bruno whispered back `But I might forget to ask forsome, when it comes, oo know--I do forget things, sometimes,' he added,seeing Sylvie about to whisper more.

And this assertion Sylvie did not venture to contradict.

Meanwhile a chair had been placed for the Other Professor,between the Empress and Sylvie. Sylvie found him a rather uninterestingneighbour: in fact, she couldn't afterwards remember that he had made morethan one remark to her during the whole banquet, and that was `What a comforta Dictionary is!' (She told Bruno, afterwards, that she had been too muchafraid of him to say more than `Yes, Sir' in reply: and that had been theend of their conversation. On which Bruno expressed a very decided opinionthat that wasn't worth calling a `conversation' at all. `Oo should haveasked him a riddle!' he added triumphantly. `Why, I asked the Professorthree riddles! One was that one you asked me in the morning, "How manypennies is there in two shillings?" And another was--' `Oh, Bruno!' Sylvieinterrupted. `That wasn't a riddle!' `It were!' Bruno fiercely replied.)

By this time a waiter had supplied Bruno with a platefulof something, which drove the plum-pudding out of his head.

`Another advantage of dinner-parties,' the Professor cheerfullyexplained, for the benefit of anyone that would listen, `is that it helpsyou to see your friends. If you want to see a man, offer him somethingto eat. It's the same rule with a mouse.'

`This Cat's very kind to the Mouses,' Bruno said, stoopingto stroke a remarkably fat specimen of the race, that had just waddledinto the room, and was rubbing itself affectionately against the leg ofhis chair. `Please, Sylvie, pour some milk in your saucer. Pussie's everso thirsty!'

`Why do you want my saucer?' said Sylvie. `You've gotone yourself!'

`Yes, I know,' said Bruno: `but I wanted mine for to giveit some more milk in.'

Sylvie looked unconvinced: however it seemed quite impossiblefor her ever to refuse what her brother asked: so she quietly filled hersaucer with milk, and handed it to Bruno, who got down off his chair toadminister it to the cat.

`The room's very hot, with all this crowd,' the Professorsaid to Sylvie. `I wonder why they don't put some lumps of ice in the grate?You fill it with lumps of coal in the winter, you know, and you sit aroundit and enjoy the warmth. How jolly it would be to fill it now with lumpsof ice, and sit round it and enjoy the coolth!'

Hot as it was, Sylvie shivered a little at the idea. `It'svery cold outside,' she said. `My feet got almost frozen to-day.'

`That's the shoemaker's fault!' the Professor cheerfullyreplied. `How often I've explained to him that he ought to make boots withlittle iron frames under the soles, to hold lamps! But he never thinks.No one would suffer from cold, if only they would think of those littlethings. I always use hot ink, myself, in the winter. Very few people everthink of that! Yet how simple it is!'

`Yes, it's very simple,' Sylvie said politely. `Has thecat had enough?' This was to Bruno, who had brought back the saucer onlyhalf-emptied.

But Bruno did not hear the question. `There's somebodyscratching at the door and wanting to come in,' he said. And he scrambleddown off his chair, and went and cautiously peeped out through the door-way.

`Who was it wanted to come in?' Sylvie asked, as he returnedto his place.

`It were a Mouse,' said Bruno. `And it peepted in. Andit saw the Cat. And it said "I'll come in another day." And I said "Ooneedn't be flightened. The Cat's welly kind to Mouses." And it said "ButI's got some important business, what I must attend to." And it said "I'llcall again to-morrow." And it said "Give my love to the Cat."'

`What a fat cat it is!' said the Lord Chancellor, leaningacross the Professor to address his small neighbour. `It's quite a wonder!'

`It was awfully fat when it camed in,' said Bruno: `soit would be more wonderfuller if it got thin all in a minute.'

`And that was the reason, I suppose,' the Lord Chancellorsuggested, `why you didn't give it the rest of the milk?'

`No,' said Bruno. `It was a betterer reason. I tookedthe saucer up 'cause it were so discontented!'

`It doesn't look so to me,' said the Lord Chancellor.`What made you think it was discontented?'

`'Cause it grumbled in its throat.'

`Oh, Bruno!' cried Sylvie. `Why, that's the way cats showthey're pleased!'

Bruno looked doubtful. `It's not a good way,' he objected.`Oo wouldn't say I were pleased, if I made that noise in my throat!'

`What a singular boy!' the Lord Chancellor whispered tohimself: but Bruno had caught the words.

`What do it mean to say "a singular boy"?' he whisperedto Sylvie.

`It means one boy,' Sylvie whispered in return. `And pluralmeans two or three.'

`Then I's welly glad I is a singular boy!' Bruno saidwith great emphasis. `It would be horrid to be two or three boys! P'rapsthey wouldn't play with me!'

`Why should they?' said the Other Professor, suddenlywaking up out of a deep reverie. `They might be asleep, you know.'

`Couldn't, if I was awake,' Bruno said cunningly.

`Oh, but they might indeed!' the Other Professor protested.`Boys don't all go to sleep at once, you know. So these boys--but who areyou talking about?'

`He never remembers to ask that first!' the Professorwhispered to the children.

`Why, the rest of me, a-course!' Bruno exclaimed triumphantly.`Supposing I was two or three boys!'

The Other Professor sighed, and seemed to be sinking backinto his reverie; but suddenly brightened up again, and addressed the Professor.`There's nothing more to be done now, is there?'

`Well, there's the dinner to finish,' the Professor saidwith a bewildered smile: `and the heat to bear. I hope you'll enjoy thedinner--such as it is; and that you wo'n't mind the heat--such as it isn't.'

The sentence sounded well, but somehow I couldn't quiteunderstand it; and the Other Professor seemed to be no better off. `Suchas it isn't what?' he peevishly enquired.

`It isn't as hot as it might be,' the Professor replied,catching at the first idea that came to hand.

`Ah, I see what you mean now!' the Other Professor graciouslyremarked. `It's very badly expressed, but I quite see it now! Thirteenminutes and a half ago,' he went on, looking first at Bruno and then athis watch as he spoke, `you said "this Cat's very kind to the Mouses."It must be a singular animal!'

`So it are,' said Bruno, after carefully examining theCat, to make sure how many there were of it.

`But how do you know it's kind to the Mouses--or, morecorrectly speaking, the Mice?'

`'Cause it plays with the Mouses,' said Bruno; `for toamuse them, oo know.'

`But that is just what I don't know,' the Other Professorrejoined. `My belief is, it plays with them to kill them!'

`Oh, that's quite a accident!' Bruno began, so eagerly,that it was evident he had already propounded this very difficulty to theCat. `It 'splained all that to me, while it were drinking the milk. Itsaid "I teaches the Mouses new games: the Mouses likes it ever so much."It said "Sometimes little accidents happens: sometimes the Mouses killstheirselves." It said "I's always welly sorry, when the Mouses kills theirselves."It said--'

`If it was so very sorry,' Sylvie said, rather disdainfully,`it wouldn't eat the Mouses after they'd killed themselves!'

But this difficulty, also, had evidently not been lostsight of in the exhaustive ethical discussion just concluded. `It said--'(the orator constantly omitted, as superfluous, his own share in the dialogue,and merely gave us the replies of the Cat) `It said "Dead Mouses neverobjecks to be eaten." It said "There's no use wasting good Mouses." Itsaid "Wifful--" sumfinoruvver. It said "And oo may live to say `How muchI wiss I had the Mouse that then I frew away!'" It said--'

`It hadn't time to say such a lot of things!' Sylvie interruptedindignantly.

`Oo doesn't know how Cats speaks!' Bruno rejoined contemptuously.`Cats speaks welly quick!'