“For the love of heaven! Bill, where did they come from?”
“I don’t know,” Leonidas said honestly, “but I don’t feel that they intend to curl up on the hearth forever. Er—they claim,” he added, “to be Pussycats. I thought I saw Judge Round, but—”
“Elsa’s work,” Cassie said. “You’re that Sunday School class of hers, aren’t you? Or the small scouts, or something? Didn’t Elsa Otis bring you here?”
“Well,” the blonde child said, “no. Not all of us. It was Judge Round. And Elsa, too. You see, Geraldine couldn’t help Elsa bring us, so the judge did. She helped bring us here.”
“A kindly gesture,” Leonidas said, dismissing the base suspicion that had entered his mind. “Er—why? Why—er—here?”
“Because the sleighs hadn’t come, and it was cold on the corner. See? So the judge thought we’d better wait here. So she told us to come in quietly so we wouldn’t disturb you. We just came on the bus, and we’re going to Bradley’s Farm for supper. In two sleighs.”
“Are you,” Cassie demanded, “the one who phones?”
“No, I’m the one-that-phone’s sister—here she is!”
Elsa Otis, having stomped the snow from her ski boots all over the hall, clumped into the living room, peered through her shell-rimmed glasses at Leonidas and Cassie, and displayed her very toothy smile.
“Oh, hello, Mr. Witherall,” she said. “I didn’t know you were home.” Clearly it would have made no difference to her if she had. “Do you like your house?”
“Yes,” Leonidas said. Elsa, he thought, was not just a miniature of her mother. She was living proof of his conviction that stout girls should not wear pants. “Yes. I like it. Er—do you?”
“I think the linen closet is lovely,” Elsa said. “I think that linen closet is simply divine. Of course, the rest is quite nice, too. I mean if you like modern. As mother said, it’s all right if you like modern.”
“I suppose,” Cassie remarked acidly, “the two of you would prefer something with a thatched roof and an earthen floor, and—”
Leonidas stopped her before she had a chance to get going on the topic of tallow candles and open plumbing.
“Er—Elsa,” he said, “before you depart for your sleighs, may I have—”
The judge loomed again in the doorway. With her was a small, pigtailed girl, and a short, timid, little man who looked more like Caspar Milquetoast than anyone Leonidas had ever seen.
“I found Wendy,” Judge Round said. “She was sliding. She—”
“Er—not sliding,” the little man interrupted timidly, “building a snow man, dear.”
“I’ve explained to her,” Judge Round continued, “the obligations one has to one’s group. She won’t slide again. Are you feeling better, Mr. Witherall? I had the girlies come in quietly so you wouldn’t be bothered. And before we go, I want the girlies to see Jock’s little—”
“If you mean the surprise, he hasn’t seen it,” the blonde child said quickly. “Judge, he didn’t take off his rubbers.”
She pointed to the little man.
“Ernest,” Judge Round said, “take off your rubbers. Really, Mr. Witherall, haven’t you seen the surprise yet? That’s odd.”
“It’s so cute,” Elsa said, “can’t we see it anyway, Cassie?”
“No,” Leonidas said. “Before you depart for your sleighs, Elsa, may I have my key? Er—all keys? From now on, I expect there will be someone here to answer the bell when you call.”
Elsa sniffed as she handed over two keys.
“I’m sure,” she said, “I don’t want ‘em. I shall tell mother to return her keys, too, if that’s the way you feel about it. Can’t the pussies see the—”
“No,” Cassie said.
“But I don’t see why we can’t run down and—”
“I prefer, Elsa,” Leonidas said, “to allow Jock to display his surprise to me, himself.”
“D’you mind,” the little man said, “if I run down and look at the pickaxes?”
Cassie and Leonidas swallowed in unison. “Pickaxes?” Leonidas said. “Er—what pickaxes?”
“Perfectly fine pickaxes,” the little man said enthusiastically. “The colonel was telling me about them. Sounded like just what we need in the Water Department.”
“You are—er—in the Water Department?” Leonidas inquired.
“Chief inspector,” the judge said without much pride. “He’s my husband. Really, Ernest, I don’t think we have time to investigate pickaxes, now. I told you to have a man come out and demonstrate. Elsa, I hear the sleighs—”
Cassie drew a long breath of relief as the door closed at last behind the Rounds, Elsa, and the rest of her little charges.
“Bill, was that deliberate?”
“I don’t think so,” Leonidas said. “Are there—yes, there are sleighs at the corner. See? No, I think that to women like Elsa and the judge, there would be no mental obstacle in the way of using someone else’s house for a waiting room. I don’t think Elsa knew I was here.”
“There were lights,” Cassie said. “And the judge did. Oh, think of Dow letting himself get mixed up with Elsa, Bill! I can’t imagine where his mind was at the time. Why, you can’t even say she’s got a nice figure. Or nice teeth. You can’t even say well-of-course- she-has-brains. Oh, that girl does irritate me so. Rushing around, doing good all the time! Why, she even read to Medora when she had the grippe!”
Leonidas said he wondered if that were a wise step.
“I mean Medora,” Cassie said. “Medora had the grippe. Not Elsa. Elsa never had a day’s illness in her life. Didn’t Estelle ever tell you? Not a day’s sickness, and only one little silver filling in a molar. But of course, Elsa played up to Medora just hoping to heal the breach, and get Dow back in the will. Or get into it herself. So many people tried to worm their way into that will, after Medora and Dow fought. After all, she was rich, and she hadn’t any other relations.”
Leonidas looked at her speculatively.
“The love of money, as my old friend the Maharajah tritely says, is the root of all evil. M’yes. Cassie, where is Dow?”
“I can’t think! I phoned Jock,
