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"I - I don't know how to," faltered Leonard, who
looked more scared and horrified than anyone.

"What!" shouted Colonel Hampton, "you've taken the
abominable liberty of turning my wife into a wolf, and

now you stand there calmly and say you can't turn her
back again!"

To do strict justice to Leonard, calmness was not a
distinguishing feature of his attitude at the moment.

"I assure you I didn't turn Mrs. Hampton into a
wolf; nothing was farther from my intentions," he

protested.
"Then where is she, and how came that animal into

the conservatory?" demanded the Colonel.
"Of course we must accept your assurance that you

didn't turn Mrs. Hampton into a wolf," said Clovis
politely, "but you will agree that appearances are

against you."
"Are we to have all these recriminations with that

beast standing there ready to tear us to pieces?" wailed
Mavis indignantly.

"Lord Pabham, you know a good deal about wild beasts
- " suggested Colonel Hampton.

"The wild beasts that I have been accustomed to,"
said Lord Pabham, "have come with proper credentials from

well-known dealers, or have been bred in my own
menagerie. I've never before been confronted with an

animal that walks unconcernedly out of an azalea bush,
leaving a charming and popular hostess unaccounted for.

As far as one can judge from OUTWARD characteristics," he
continued, "it has the appearance of a well-grown female

of the North American timber-wolf, a variety of the
common species CANIS LUPUS."

"Oh, never mind its Latin name," screamed Mavis, as
the beast came a step or two further into the room;

"can't you entice it away with food, and shut it up where
it can't do any harm?"

"If it is really Mrs. Hampton, who has just had a
very good dinner, I don't suppose food will appeal to it

very strongly," said Clovis.
"Leonard," beseeched Mrs. Hoops tearfully, "even if

this is none of your doing can't you use your great
powers to turn this dreadful beast into something

harmless before it bites us all - a rabbit or something?"
"I don't suppose Colonel Hampton would care to have

his wife turned into a succession of fancy animals as
though we were playing a round game with her," interposed

Clovis.
"I absolutelyforbid it," thundered the Colonel.

"Most wolves that I've had anything to do with have
been inordinately fond of sugar," said Lord Pabham; "if

you like I'll try the effect on this one."
He took a piece of sugar from the saucer of his

coffee cup and flung it to the expectant Louisa, who
snapped it in mid-air. There was a sigh of relief from

the company; a wolf that ate sugar when it might at the
least have been employed in tearing macaws to pieces had

already shed some of its terrors. The sigh deepened to a
gasp of thanks-giving when Lord Pabham decoyed the animal

out of the room by a pretended largesse of further sugar.
There was an instant rush to the vacated conservatory.

There was no trace of Mrs. Hampton except the plate
containing the macaws' supper.

"The door is locked on the inside!" exclaimed
Clovis, who had deftly turned the key as he affected to

test it.
Everyone turned towards Bilsiter.

"If you haven't turned my wife into a wolf," said
Colonel Hampton, "will you kindly explain where she has

disappeared to, since she obviously could not have gone
through a locked door? I will not press you for an

explanation of how a North American timber-wolf suddenly
appeared in the conservatory, but I think I have some

right to inquire what has become of Mrs. Hampton."
Bilsiter's reiterated disclaimer was met with a

general murmur of impatient disbelief.
"I refuse to stay another hour under this roof,"

declared Mavis Pellington.
"If our hostess has really vanished out of human

form," said Mrs. Hoops, "none of the ladies of the party
can very well remain. I absolutely decline to be

chaperoned by a wolf!"
"It's a she-wolf," said Clovis soothingly.

The correct etiquette to be observed under the
unusual circumstances received no further elucidation.

The sudden entry of Mary Hampton deprived the discussion
of its immediate interest.

"Some one has mesmerised me," she exclaimed crossly;
"I found myself in the game larder, of all places, being

fed with sugar by Lord Pabham. I hate being mesmerised,
and the doctor has forbidden me to touch sugar."

The situation was explained to her, as far as it
permitted of anything that could be called explanation.

"Then you REALLY did turn me into a wolf, Mr.
Bilsiter?" she exclaimed excitedly.

But Leonard had burned the boat in which he might
now have embarked on a sea of glory. He could only shake

his head feebly.
"It was I who took that liberty," said Clovis; "you

see, I happen to have lived for a couple of years in
North-Eastern Russia, and I have more than a tourist's

acquaintance with the magic craft of that region. One
does not care to speak about these strange powers, but

once in a way, when one hears a lot of nonsense being
talked about them, one is tempted to show what Siberian

magic can accomplish in the hands of someone who really
understands it. I yielded to that temptation. May I

have some brandy? the effort has left me rather faint."
If Leonard Bilsiter could at that moment have

transformed Clovis into a cockroach and then have stepped
on him he would gladly have performed both operations.

LAURA
"YOU are not really dying, are you?" asked Amanda.

"I have the doctor's permission to live till
Tuesday," said Laura.

"But to-day is Saturday; this is serious!" gasped
Amanda.

"I don't know about it being serious; it is
certainly Saturday," said Laura.

"Death is always serious," said Amanda.
"I never said I was going to die. I am presumably

going to leave off being Laura, but I shall go on being
something. An animal of some kind, I suppose. You see,

when one hasn't been very good in the life one has just
lived, one reincarnates in some lower organism. And I

haven't been very good, when one comes to think of it.
I've been petty and mean and vindictive and all that sort

of thing when circumstances have seemed to warrant it."
"Circumstances never warrant that sort of thing,"

said Amanda hastily.
"If you don't mind my saying so," observed Laura,

"Egbert is a circumstance that would warrant any amount
of that sort of thing. You're married to him - that's

different; you've sworn to love, honour, and endure him:
I haven't."

"I don't see what's wrong with Egbert," protested
Amanda.

"Oh, I daresay the wrongness has been on my part,"
admitted Laura dispassionately; "he has merely been the

extenuating circumstance. He made a thin, peevish kind
of fuss, for instance, when I took the collie puppies

from the farm out for a run the other day."
"They chased his young broods of speckled Sussex and

drove two sitting hens off their nests, besides running
all over the flower beds. You know how devoted he is to

his poultry and garden."
"Anyhow, he needn't have gone on about it for the

entire evening and then have said, `Let's say no more
about it' just when I was beginning to enjoy the

discussion. That's where one of my petty vindictive
revenges came in," added Laura with an unrepentant

chuckle; "I turned the entire family of speckled Sussex
into his seedling shed the day after the puppy episode."

"How could you?" exclaimed Amanda.
"It came quite easy," said Laura; "two of the hens

pretended to be laying at the time, but I was firm."
"And we thought it was an accident!"

"You see," resumed Laura, "I really HAVE some
grounds for supposing that my next incarnation will be in

a lower organism. I shall be an animal of some kind. On
the other hand, I haven't been a bad sort in my way, so I

think I may count on being a nice animal, something
elegant and lively, with a love of fun. An otter,

perhaps."
"I can't imagine you as an otter," said Amanda.

"Well, I don't suppose you can imagine me as an
angel, if it comes to that," said Laura.

Amanda was silent. She couldn't.
"Personally I think an otter life would be rather

enjoyable," continued Laura; "salmon to eat all the year
round, and the satisfaction of being able to fetch the

trout in their own homes without having to wait for hours
till they condescend to rise to the fly you've been

dangling before them; and an elegant svelte figure - "
"Think of the otter hounds," interposed Amanda; "how

dreadful to be hunted and harried and finally worried to
death!"

"Rather fun with half the neighbourhood looking on,
and anyhow not worse than this Saturday-to-Tuesday

business of dying by inches; and then I should go on into
something else. If I had been a moderately good otter I

suppose I should get back into human shape of some sort;
probably something rather primitive - a little brown,

unclothed Nubian boy, I should think."
"I wish you would be serious," sighed Amanda; "you

really ought to be if you're only going to live till
Tuesday."

As a matter of fact Laura died on Monday.
"So dreadfully upsetting," Amanda complained to her

uncle-in-law, Sir Lulworth Quayne. "I've asked quite a
lot of people down for golf and fishing, and the

rhododendrons are just looking their best."
"Laura always was inconsiderate," said Sir Lulworth;

"she was born during Goodwood week, with an Ambassador
staying in the house who hated babies."

"She had the maddest kind of ideas," said Amanda;
"do you know if there was any insanity in her family?"

"Insanity? No, I never heard of any. Her father
lives in West Kensington, but I believe he's sane on all

other subjects."
"She had an idea that she was going to be

reincarnated as an otter," said Amanda.


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