“If you see me going to laugh,” whispered the young lady, “pinch me hard.”

“Moon-cat,” repeated Mr. Lavender, “where have you come from?  And what do you want, holding up your paw like that?  What curious little noises you make, duckie!” The cat, indeed, was uttering sounds rather like a duck.  It came closer to Mr. Lavender, circled his legs, drubbed itself against Blink’s chest, while its tapered tail, barred with silver, brushed her mouth.

“This is extraordinary,” they heard Mr. Lavender say; “I would stroke it if I wasn’t so stiff.  How nice of you little moon-cat to be friendly to my play-girl!  For what is there in all the world so pleasant to see as friendliness between a dog and cat!”

At those words the old lady, who was a great lover of animals, was so affected that she pinched the young lady by mistake.

“Not yet!” whispered the latter in some agony.  “Listen!”

“Moon-cat,” Mr. Lavender was saying, “Arcadia is in your golden eyes.  You have come, no doubt, to show us how far we have strayed away from it.”  And too stiff to reach the cat by bending, Mr. Lavender let himself slowly down till he could sit.  “Pan is dead,” he said, as he arrived on the grass and crossed his feet, “and Christ is not alive.  Moon-cat!”

The little cat had put its head into his hand, while Blink was thrusting her nose into his mouth.

“I’m going to sneeze!” whispered the old lady, strangely affected.

“Pull your upper lip down hard, like the German Empress, and count nine!” murmured the young.

While the old lady was doing this Mr. Lavender had again begun to speak.

“Life is now nothing but explosions.  Gentleness has vanished, and beauty is a dream.  When you have your kittens, moon-cat, bring them up in amity, to love milk, dogs, and the sun.”

The moon-cat, who had now reached his shoulder, brushed the tip of her tail across his loose right eyebrow, while Blink’s jealous tongue avidly licked his high left cheekbone.  With one hand Mr. Lavender was cuddling the cat’s head, with the other twiddling Blink’s forelock, and the watchers could see his eyes shining, and his white hair standing up all ruffled.

“Isn’t it sweet?” murmured the old lady.

“Ah! moon-cat,” went on Mr. Lavender, “come and live with us.  You shall have your kittens in the bathroom, and forget this age of blood and iron.”

Both the old lady and the young were removing moisture from their eyes when, the voice of Mr. Lavender, very changed, recalled them to their vigil.  His face had become strained and troubled.

“Never,” he was saying, “will we admit that doctrine of our common enemies.  Might is not right gentlemen those who take the sword shall perish by the sword.  With blood and iron we will ourselves stamp out this noxious breed.  No stone shall be left standing, and no babe sleeping in that abandoned country.  We will restore the tide of humanity, if we have to wade through rivers of blood across mountains of iron.”