'Step this way, sir,' said Jones; but although he took Jimmy to the dining-room, unfortunately there was no sign of dinner.
He saw the black cat still sitting on a chair watching the tortoise-shell cat outside the window, and on the hearth-rug lay a tabby one, with its head on the fender, fast asleep.
'You had better sit here until Miss Morton comes home,' said the butler.
'Do you think she'll be very long?' asked Jimmy.
'About half-past three,' was the answer, and Jones opened the coal-box to put some more coal on the fire as he spoke.
'Because I haven't had any dinner at all,' said Jimmy.
'Oh, you haven't, haven't you?' cried Jones, as he stood holding the coal shovel.
'No,' said Jimmy, 'and I'm rather hungry.'
'Well, I don't know what Miss Morton'll say about you,' was the answer. 'So,' he added, as he put away the shovel, 'you think you'd like something to eat?'
'I'm sure I should—very much,' cried Jimmy.