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At first Flush could distinguish nothing in thepale greenish gloom however five white globes glimmering mysteriouslyin mid-air. But again it was the smell of the room that overpoweredhim. But as Flush trotted up behind Miss Mitford, who was behind thebutler, he was extra astonished by what he smelt than by what hesaw. Up the funnel of the staircase came warm whiffs of jointsroasting, of fowls basting, of soups simmering—ravishingalmost as meals itself to nostrils used to the meagre savour ofKerenhappock's penurious frys and hashes. When Thomas and Sotomayor ever
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