“No,” said Felicity, rather primly.
“Then yez don’t know what’s good for yez,” retorted Peg, rather grumpily. But a few whiffs of her pipe placated her and, observing Cecily sigh, she asked her kindly what was the matter.
“I’m thinking how worried they’ll be at home about us,” explained Cecily.
“Bless you, dearie, don’t be worrying over that. I’ll send them word that yez are all snug and safe here.”
“But how can you?” cried amazed Cecily.
“Better not ask,” said Peg again, with another glance at the skull.
An uncomfortable silence followed, finally broken by Peg, who introduced her pets to us and told how she had come by them. The black cat was her favourite.
“That cat knows more than I do, if yez’ll believe it,” she said proudly. “I’ve got a rat too, but he’s a bit shy when strangers is round. Your cat got all right again that time, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” said the Story Girl.
“Thought he would,” said Peg, nodding sagely. “I seen to that. Now, don’t yez all be staring at the hole in my dress.”