"No," said the Lion, "certainly not."
"Then how will you come?" asked Ridgwell.
"You will see me again once more," asserted the Lion, "in three days from now, and moreover inside your own home."
"Three days from now is Ridge's birthday," ventured Christine; "of course, it would be very nice to see you, but I do wonder how you will come, and I do wonder how we shall be able to explain you away."
The Pleasant-Faced Lion laughed his gruffest laugh.
"I don't think you could very well explain me away, little Christine."
"Suppose you sat on the hearth-rug and people seemed a little distant or awkward?" commenced Ridgwell.
"Yes," broke in Christine, "or some of those dreadful long pauses occurred when nobody speaks and every one looks at every one else and feels uncomfortable—would you say something?"
"Yes," said the Lion. "I have plenty of tact, but really there won't be any need," and the Pleasant-Faced Lion again chuckled softly to himself.
"There is only one thing I want you to do," said the Pleasant-Faced Lion, and he still seemed to be choked with merriment as if a sudden idea had occurred to him.