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AUNT JANE’S NIECES AND UNCLE JOHN

horrible things on an empty stomach. Now, then—”

He paused, for a pass-key rattled in the hall door and a moment later Patsy Doyle, rosy and animated, fresh from the cold and wet outside, smilingly greeted them.

She had an umbrella, but her cloak was drip- ping with moisture and in its ample folds was something huddled and bundled up like a baby, which she carefully protected.

“So, then,” exclaimed the Major, coming for- ward for a kiss, “you’re back at last, safe and sound. Whatever kept ye out “til this time o’ night, Patsy darlin’ ?” he added, letting the brogue creep into his tone, as he did when stirred by any emotion.

Uncle John started to take off her wet cloak.

“Look out!’ cried Patsy; ‘you’! disturb Mumbles.”

The two men looked at her bundle curiously.

“Who’s Mumbles?” asked one.

“What on earth is Mumbles?” inquired the other.

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