I made another experiment. I went stealthily into the kitchen, and filled a saucer with milk. This saucer I took into the garden and put upon the gravel before the two cats.
"You must be hungry," I said aloud to the spectral figure, with a feeble attempt at jocularity. "Lap up."
It made no movement. With a look of gratitude at me our tabby lapped up the whole of the milk, and licked the saucer dry.
My wife came out and, seeing what I had done, smiled.
"Are you feeling better?" she asked solicitously.
"There is nothing whatever the matter with me," I said, with an unreasonable show of irritation.
She wisely made no reply, and I was once more left alone with my supernatural companion.
Thus passed the day, and I was glad when the hour arrived for Bob Millet to make his appearance. He came punctually and was cordially received by my wife.
"You are in time for tea, Mr. Millet," she said, shaking hands with him. "I want you to feel that you are really welcome here."
"Indeed I do feel so," said Bob, gratified by this reception, which I fancy he hardly expected.