"Edwin comes to-day," said Mrs. Ukridge.

　　"And the Derricks," said Ukridge, sawing at the bread in his energeticway. "Don't forget the Derricks, Millie.""No, dear. Mrs. Beale is going to give us a very nice dinner. Wetalked it over yesterday.""Who is Edwin?" I asked.

　　We were finishing breakfast on the second morning after my visit tothe Derricks. I had related my adventures to the staff of the farm onmy return, laying stress on the merits of our neighbours and theirinterest in our doings, and the Hired Retainer had been sent off nextmorning with a note from Mrs. Ukridge inviting them to look over thefarm and stay to dinner.

　　"Edwin?" said Ukridge. "Oh, beast of a cat.""Oh, Stanley!" said Mrs. Ukridge plaintively. "He's not. He's such adear, Mr. Garnet. A beautiful, pure-bred Persian. He has takenprizes.""He's always taking something. That's why he didn't come down withus.""A great, horrid, /beast/ of a dog bit him, Mr. Garnet. And poorEdwin had to go to a cats' hospital.""And I hope," said Ukridge, "the experience will do him good. Sneakeda dog's dinner, Garnet, under his very nose, if you please. Naturallythe dog lodged a protest.""I'm so afraid that he will be frightened of Bob. He will be verytimid, and Bob's so boisterous. Isn't he, Mr. Garnet?""That's all right," said Ukridge. "Bob won't hurt him, unless he triesto steal his dinner. In that case we will have Edwin made into a rug.""Stanley doesn't like Edwin," said Mrs. Ukridge, sadly.

　　Edwin arrived early in the afternoon, and was shut into the kitchen.

　　He struck me as a handsome cat, but nervous.

　　The Derricks followed two hours later. Mr. Chase was not of the party.

　　"Tom had to go to London," explained the professor, "or he would havebeen delighted to come. It was a disappointment to the boy, for hewanted to see the farm.""He must come some other time," said Ukridge. "We invite inspection.

　　Look here," he broke off suddenly--we were nearing the fowl-run now,Mrs. Ukridge walking in front with Phyllis Derrick--"were you ever atBristol?""Never, sir," said the professor.

　　"Because I knew just such another fat little buffer there a few yearsago. Gay old bird, he was. He--""This is the fowl-run, professor," I broke in, with a moist, tinglingfeeling across my forehead and up my spine. I saw the professorstiffen as he walked, while his face deepened in colour. Ukridge'sbreezy way of expressing himself is apt to electrify the stranger.

　　"You will notice the able way--ha! ha!--in which the wire-netting isarranged," I continued feverishly. "Took some doing, that. By Jove,yes. It was hot work. Nice lot of fowls, aren't they? Rather a mixedlot, of course. Ha! ha! That's the dealer's fault though. We aregetting quite a number of eggs now. Hens wouldn't lay at first.

　　Couldn't make them."I babbled on, till from the corner of my eye I saw the flush fade fromthe professor's face and his back gradually relax its poker-likeattitude. The situation was saved for the moment but there was noknowing what further excesses Ukridge might indulge in. I managed todraw him aside as we went through the fowl-run, and expostulated.

　　"For goodness sake, be careful," I whispered. "You've no notion howtouchy he is.""But /I/ said nothing," he replied, amazed.

　　"Hang it, you know, nobody likes to be called a fat little buffer tohis face.""What! My dear old man, nobody minds a little thing like that. Wecan't be stilted and formal. It's ever so much more friendly to relaxand be chummy."Here we rejoined the others, and I was left with a leaden forebodingof gruesome things in store. I knew what manner of man Ukridge waswhen he relaxed and became chummy. Friendships of years' standing hadfailed to survive the test.

　　For the time being, however, all went well. In his role of lecturer heoffended no one, and Phyllis and her father behaved admirably. Theyreceived his strangest theories without a twitch of the mouth.

　　"Ah," the professor would say, "now is that really so? Veryinteresting indeed."Only once, when Ukridge was describing some more than usually originaldevice for the furthering of the interests of his fowls, did a slightspasm disturb Phyllis's look of attentive reverence.

　　"And you have really had no previous experience in chicken-farming?"she said.

　　"None," said Ukridge, beaming through his glasses. "Not an atom. But Ican turn my hand to anything, you know. Things seem to come naturallyto me somehow.""I see," said Phyllis.

　　It was while matters were progressing with this beautiful smoothnessthat I observed the square form of the Hired Retainer approaching us.

　　Somehow--I cannot say why--I had a feeling that he came with bad news.

　　Perhaps it was his air of quiet satisfaction which struck me asominous.

　　"Beg pardon, Mr. Ukridge, sir."Ukridge was in the middle of a very eloquent excursus on the feedingof fowls, a subject on which he held views of his own as ingenious asthey were novel. The interruption annoyed him.

　　"Well, Beale," he said, "what is it?""That there cat, sir, what came to-day.""Oh, Beale," cried Mrs. Ukridge in agitation, "/what/ has happened?""Having something to say to the missis--""What has happened? Oh, Beale, don't say that Edwin has been hurt?

　　Where is he? Oh, /poor/ Edwin!""Having something to say to the missis--""If Bob has bitten him I hope he had his nose /well/ scratched," saidMrs. Ukridge vindictively.

　　"Having something to say to the missis," resumed the Hired Retainertranquilly, "I went into the kitchen ten minutes back. The cat wassitting on the mat."Beale's narrative style closely resembled that of a certain book I hadread in my infancy. I wish I could remember its title. It was a well-written book.

　　"Yes, Beale, yes?" said Mrs. Ukridge. "Oh, do go on."" 'Hullo, puss,' I says to him, 'and 'ow are /you/, sir?' 'Becareful,' says the missis. ' 'E's that timid,' she says, 'you wouldn'tbelieve,' she says. ' 'E's only just settled down, as you may say,'

　　she says. 'Ho, don't you fret,' I says to her, ' 'im and meunderstands each other. 'Im and me,' I says, 'is old friends. 'E's mydear old pal, Corporal Banks.' She grinned at that, ma'am, CorporalBanks being a man we'd 'ad many a 'earty laugh at in the old days. 'Ewas, in a manner of speaking, a joke between us.""Oh, do--go--on, Beale. What has happened to Edwin?"The Hired Retainer proceeded in calm, even tones.

　　"We was talking there, ma'am, when Bob, what had followed me unknown,trotted in. When the cat ketched sight of 'im sniffing about, therewas such a spitting and swearing as you never 'eard; and blowed," said............