If only we had not lost our Tails! A friend of mine thinks it a pity that we have lost our tails.

He argues it would be so helpful if, like the dog, we possessed a tail that wagged when we were pleased, that stuck out straight when we were feeling mad.
"Now, do come and see us again soon," says our hostess; "don't wait to be asked.

Drop in whenever you are passing." We take her at her word.

The servant who answers our knocking says she "will see." There is a scuffling of feet, a murmur of hushed voices, a swift opening and closing of doors.

We are shown into the drawing-room, the maid, breathless from her search, one supposes, having discovered that her mistress _is_ at home.