Even while he was speaking, the big white cat had left her basket and was walking round her master, purring.  He stooped down and lifted her up.

“If Mrs. Crofton sees Josephine, she will simply long to have one of her kittens!  Will you bring along the white one, Godfrey—­the one we call Puff?  We do so want to find him a good home.”

Radmore walked across to where the big basket stood on the floor, and peered into it dubiously:  “Why, Timmy, they’re tiny!  Poor little wretches!  I wouldn’t dream of bringing one of them along—­it would be sheer cruelty.  Of course you can bring the cat if you feel like it, but I shouldn’t if I were you.”

“I’ll only take her in for a minute.”

Timmy felt just a little sorry Radmore had refused to bring Puff along, for he was well aware that a cat is never so fierce as when she imagines she is defending her young.

They went off together, Radmore in front, Timmy, hugging Josephine, behind.  Just outside the drawing-room door the boy stopped for a moment, and shifted the cat’s weight from one arm to the other.  There had come over him a rather uncomfortable premonition of evil, but he now felt strung up to go through with his experiment.

From within the drawing-room there came the sound of laughter and talking.  It was evident that the party was going well, and that everyone in there was merry and at their ease.

“Would you mind opening the door, Godfrey?” There was a slight quiver of apprehension in Timmy’s voice.

Radmore opened the door, and for a fleeting moment he saw an attractive, placid scene spread out before him.

The two girls, in their pretty light dresses, were standing by the wood fire.  On the sofa, to their left, with the light from one of the lamps focussed full on her, sat Mrs. Crofton, her bare left arm hanging over the side of the low couch.  Jack, perched on the arm of a big chair, was looking at her, all his soul in his eyes.  Mr. Tosswill sat some way off under a shaded reading lamp; his wife, knitting, not far from him.  Tom was surreptitiously reading a book in a corner behind the sofa.

And then, all at once, Radmore found himself whirled into an unutterable scene of confusion and terror.

As Timmy walked through the open door Josephine had leapt out of his arms on to the floor.  For a flashing second the cat stood on the carpet, her white fur all abristle, her back arched, and her tail lashing furiously in the air.  Then, uttering a hoarse cry of rage and fear, she sprang towards Mrs. Crofton, and dug first her claws, and then her teeth, into the white arm that hung over the side of the couch....  Josephine’s terrified victim gave a fearful cry, everyone in the room got up and rushed forward, and at that exact instant Betty came into the drawing-room.  Sweeping a piece of embroidery off the piano, she threw it over the cat’s head, took up the now struggling, helpless bundle, and rushed out of the room with it.