Christopher shuffled uneasily and I came to the rescue. "Not now, Dorothy," I said; "we are too comfortable. Come and have a look at this book with us." Dorothy looked at me as though she had just realised my presence. "I want Christopher to come and play with me," she repeated. Christopher has a fine old-fashioned idea of a host's duty to his guests. He stifled a yawn and slid from my knee. "All right, Dorothy," he said. "What shall we play?" Dorothy skipped like a young lamb. "Hide and Seek," she sang. "I'll go and hide. Don't look till I call." She danced gaily and triumphantly out of the room. Now I don't mind being snubbed and I certainly shouldn't trouble about a spot of a child who ought to have been kept in the nursery. Of course it's ridiculous even to begin explaining, isn't it? The thing's obvious. No, I felt that Dorothy should be taught a lesson; that is all. I thought it would be good for her. "That settles Dorothy," I said deliberately. "Now we can go on reading." "But she wants me to go and look for her," explained Christopher. "Then let her want," I said shortly. "We can't always be---- Christopher, we'll have a game with Dorothy. We'll stop where we are and let her look for herself." Christopher chuckled. "She'll be awfully angry," he said uncertainly. "Good!" said I. "Cooee!" came a voice from the far-away. We laughed guiltily to ourselves and settled down in the chair. The scheme proceeded according to plan. After sundry shrieks and screeches and whistles Dorothy grew impatient and adopted bolder tactics. "You can't find me," she called hopefully. I felt that it was time for a little encouragement. "I wonder where she can be?" I said loudly. There was a long silence. At last Dorothy grew desperate. "Look under the armchair in the hall," she called. Christopher and I smiled to ourselves. Then suddenly we heard her creeping towards the door. I blame Christopher for what followed. "She's coming," he whispered excitedly. "Let's hide." There was no time to think. We slipped rapidly under the table. A ridiculous thing to do, of course; so undignified. I kick myself when I think of it, but at the time---- Well, it was Christopher's fault for getting excited. So there we were squashed under the table when the door opened and Dorothy appeared. "I don't believe----" she began, and then stopped. "Why, they're not here," she gasped. And then Christopher spoilt everything by spluttering. I strangled him at once and we hoped that Dorothy hadn't heard. We saw her legs standing very still by the door. Then they moved quickly round the table to the fireplace. Christopher and I held our breaths and waited. We saw that Dorothy was pulling our chair round to face the fire. Then she sat herself in it and all we could see was the back of the chair. There was a great silence. Christopher and I looked at each other and decided that something must be done. I cleared my throat quietly. "Cooee!" I fluted.