Still, Archie was, so far, her greatest interest. He was a particularly pretty boy, and she was justified in thinking him rather unusual. At this period he spent a considerable amount of his leisure time not only in longing to see real animals, but in inventing and drawing pictures of non-existent ones--horrible creatures, or quaint creatures, for which he found the strangest names. He told Dilly about them, but Dilly was not his audience--she was rather his confidante and literary adviser; or even sometimes his collaborator. His public consisted principally of his mother. It was a convention that Edith should be frightened, shocked and horrified at the creatures of his imagination, while Dilly privately revelled in their success. Miss Townsend, the governess, was rather coldly ignored in this matter. She had a way of speaking of the animals with a smile, as a nice occupation to keep the children quiet. She did not understand. 'Please, Madam, would you kindly go into the nursery; Master Archie wishes you to come and hear about the golden--something he's just made up like,' said Dilly's nurse with an expression of resignation. Edith jumped up at once. 'Oh dear! Tell Master Archie I'm coming.' She ran into the nursery and found Archie and Dilly both looking rather excited; Archie, fairly self-controlled, with a paper in his hand on which was a rough sketch which he would not let her see, and hid behind him. 'Mother,' Archie began in a low, solemn voice, rather slowly, 'the golden quoribus is the most horrible animal, the most awful-looking animal, you ever heard of in _your_ life!' 'Oh-h-h! How awful!' said Edith, beginning to shiver. 'Wait a moment--let me sit down quietly and hear about it.' She sat down by the fire and clasped her hands, looking at him with a terrified expression which was part of the ritual. Dilly giggled, and put her thumb in her mouth, watching the effect with widely opened eyes. 'Much more awful than the gazeka, of course, I suppose?' Edith said rather rashly. 'Much,' said Dilly. '(Be quiet, Dilly!) Mother!' he was reproachful, 'what do you mean? The gazeka? Why--the gazeka's nothing at all--it's a rotten little animal. It doesn't count. Besides, it isn't real--it never was real. Gazeka, indeed!' 'Oh, I beg your pardon,' said Edith repentantly; 'do go on.' 'No... the golden quoribus is far-ar-r-r-r more frightening even than the jilbery. Do you remember how awful _that_ was? And much larger.' 'What! Worse than the jilbery! Oh, good gracious! How dreadful! What's it like?' 'First of all--it's as long as from here to Brighton,' said Archie. 'A little longer,' said Dilly. '(Shut up, miss!) As long. It's called the golden quoribus because it's bright gold, except the bumps; and the bumps are green.' 'Bright green,' said Dilly. '(Oh, will you hold your tongue, Dilly?) Green.' 'How terrible!... And what shape is it?' 'All pointed and sharp, and three-cornered.' 'Does it breathe fire?' asked Edith.