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composed. I took a deep breath, ridding myself of the last traces of uneasiness, and then moved down the stairs, a bit too briskly to be really dignified. I told myself that it was merely my eagerness to see Aunt Agatha that made me move so quickly.

CHAPTER THREE
    I was rather surprised to find the drawing room empty. Aunt Agatha hadn’t come in yet, which gave me further time to compose myself and examine the beautifully appointed room. Victorian in style, with ornate furniture, it was nevertheless light and airy, done in shades of brown, beige, yellow, and golden wheat color. A pair of French windows stood open, leading out onto the terrace, and sunlight came pouring through in shimmering rays that brought out golden tones in the waxed parquet floor and touched the edge of a brown, orange, and beige Persian carpet. A portrait of Lady Arabella Gordon hung over the white marble fireplace.
    I studied the painting. Done in the florid, overly dramatic style of the period, it showed a plump, rather self-satisfied matron posed against a backdrop of rocky gray hills with yellow flowers growing in the crevices. She wore a flowing white dress with a bold green sash, and held a green parasol over her shoulder. Dark ebony hair was pulled away from the oval face in a severe bun, and the features were patrician, the eyes dark brown, the mouth quite smug. Certainly not a beautiful woman, I thought, but a strong one. I could easily imagine her trouping through the deserts and giving the Arab bearers hell.
    There was a noisy patter on the terrace outside, and I gave a little cry of alarm as a great silver-gray creature came bounding in through the French windows. He stopped, staring at me with startled yellow-brown eyes, evidently as surprised as I was. He was a magnificent animal, his body lean and sleek, his short fur like glossy velvet, and he looked bewildered at finding me here, not knowing whether to growl or whine with pleasure.
    â€œFriends?” I said, my voice a bit shaky. “You’re a lovely thing, you are, but do you bite ?”
    The animal lunged toward me, placing two padded paws on my shoulders and giving me a great slurpy kiss with a long pink tongue. I almost lost my balance.
    â€œEasy, fellow!” I protested. “Let’s not carry this friendship thing too far!”
    â€œHe likes you,” Aunt Agatha exclaimed, striding briskly into the room from the terrace. “Great clumsy beast, isn’t he? Down, Earl!- Sit! You see, he has a frightfully affectionate temperament, completely unlike his brother. Prince is another matter altogether. Surly as can be, and quite disrespectful—not on the carpet , Earl. On the hearth. There, that’s a love.”
    Earl curled up on the marble hearth, head resting on his front paws, and his eyes devoured me with excessive affection. I felt sure he was going to pounce over for another kiss at any moment.
    â€œMy dear Susan!” Aunt Agatha cried, throwing her arms wide to embrace me. “This is outrageous! You weren’t supposed to get here till next week and everything’s disastrously disordered. We don’t even have electricity! Can you imagine?” She gave me a vigorous hug and then held me back at arm’s length to examine me. “Nevertheless, I’m elated. Simply elated! It’s such fun having you here.”
    Aunt Agatha was tall and large-boned, a big woman with the red-blooded vitality of a female athlete. Her short-clipped hair was sandy, liberally streaked with gray, and her long face was undeniably plain, weatherworn, lined with age, yet her large blue eyes were radiantly clear and sparkled with youthful enthusiasm. She wore sensible brown shoes and a pinkish-brown tweed suit, the skirt several inches below the knees. She was a striking figure, exuding strength and character that would have made beauty superfluous.
    â€œSorry I didn’t meet you when you came in,” she said, her voice rich and