"Edwin comes to-day," said Mrs. Ukridge.
"And the Derricks," said Ukridge, sawing at the bread in his energetic
way. "Don't forget the Derricks, Millie."
"No, dear. Mrs. Beale is going to give us a very nice dinner. We
talked it over yesterday."
"Who is Edwin?" I asked.
We were finishing breakfast on the second morning after my visit to
the Derricks. I had related my adventures to the staff of the farm on
my return, laying stress on the merits of our neighbors and their
interest in our doings, and the hired retainer had been sent off next
morning with a note from Mrs. Ukridge, inviting them to look over the
farm and stay to dinner.
"Edwin?" said Ukridge. "Beast of a cat."
"O Stanley!" said Mrs. Ukridge plaintively. "He's not. He's such a
dear, Mr. Garnet. A beautiful, pure-bred Persian. He has taken
prizes."
"He's always taking something--generally food. That's why he didn't
come down with us."
"A great, horrid _beast_ of a dog bit him, Mr. Garnet." Mrs. Ukridge's
eyes became round and shining. "And poor Edwin had to go to a cats'
hospital."
"And I hope," said Ukridge, "the experience will do him good. Sneaked
a dog's bone, Garnet, under his very nose, if you please. Naturally,
the dog lodged a protest."
"I'm so afraid that he will be frightened of Bob. He will be very
timid, and Bob's so exceedingly boisterous. Isn't he, Mr. Garnet?"