“Oh, Cis, old girl,” he said jovially; “wake up and bring me some more coffee.”

This time, Mr. Gilwyn’s lower jaw dropped in amazement.  There was a sudden awful silence, while, behind the guest’s chair, Cicely’s shoulders were shaking.  In her mind, Theodora rapidly summed up the situation and judged it best to make a clean breast of the whole matter.  Mr. Gilwyn looked as if his sense of humor were somewhat deficient; but he was a married man, and it was barely possible that his wife had not always escaped from similar experiences.  Accordingly, she put on her most brilliant smile and leaned forward slightly in her chair.

“Mr. Gilwyn,”—­she was beginning.

“Grrrrr!  Grrrrr!  Grrrrr!  Woo—­woo—­woof!”

There was a sudden patter of tiny feet, a scamper, a rush, a succession of ecstatic little growls followed by a still more ecstatic yelp of rapture and glee.  Melchisedek had emerged from his temporary retirement and come prancing upon the scene.  He bore something in his mouth, something long and flexible and brown; and he danced up and down the room, worrying it and growling, worrying it again and yelping.  Unhappily Mr. Gilwyn disliked small dogs, especially small dogs of frisky habits, and he showed his dislike quite frankly.

“Cicely, can you catch him?” Theodora demanded.

Dropping her tray into the nearest chair, Cicely made a snatch at Melchisedek as he shot past her.  He eluded her, and, happy that at last he was to have a companion in his sport, he took refuge under Mr. Gilwyn’s chair where he mounted guard over his plaything and snarled invitingly whenever Cicely tried to seize him.  The situation reacted upon the nerves of the guest and caused him to spill a portion of his coffee.  Ever curious, ever greedy, Melchisedek scampered out to sniff at the coffee, and Cicely made a dash at his abandoned booty.

“What is it, Cicely?” Theodora asked.

“Something he oughtn’t to have, ma’am,” she answered quickly, her finger on her lip.

But Billy missed the signal.

“Let’s see it,” he demanded.

For an instant, Cicely hesitated.  Long before this, Allyn had told her of the girlish fit of temper which had led Theodora to cut off her own hair, and she had a shrewd suspicion of the history of Melchisedek’s trophy.

“Let’s see it,” Billy repeated, while Melchisedek on appealing hindlegs walked around and around her, praying that his own might be restored to him.  Cicely hesitated for a minute longer.  Then the spirit of mischief triumphed, and she held out to Billy a long, soft braid of silky brown hair, tied at either end with a bow of scarlet ribbon.

“Here it is, sir,” she said demurely.

“Billy!” Theodora’s voice was sharp with exclamation points.

“I know it.”

“Where did it come from, at this day?”

“My box in the garret.  I was up there, this afternoon, and I must have left it open.”