“Oh, I don’t think she would like you to call her that!” exclaimed Timmy, and both his grown-up auditors laughed.  But Enid Crofton felt a little disappointed, for on Miss Pendarth’s card had been written the words:—­“I look forward to making your acquaintance.  I think I must have known Colonel Crofton many years ago.  There was a Cecil Crofton who was a great friend of my brother’s—­they joined the Ninetieth on the same day.”  She had rather hoped to find a kindly friend and ally in the still unknown caller.

And then, as if answering her secret thought, Radmore observed carelessly:—­“It’s wrong to prejudice you against Miss Pendarth; I’ve known her do most awfully kind things.  But she had what the Scotch call a ‘scunner’ against me when I was a boy.  She’s the sort of woman who’s a good friend and a bad enemy.”

“I must hope,” said his hostess softly, “that she’ll be a good friend to me.  At any rate, it was nice of her to come and call almost at once, wasn’t it?”

“You’ve delightful quarters here,” observed Radmore.  “The Trellis House was a very different place to this in my time; I can remember a hideous, cold and white wallpaper in this room—­it looks twice as large as it did then.”

“I found 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.