Tomorrow the Professor and I go South, up to a point: I am going as far as York and he is going as far as Nottingham, so still quite North really from most points of view. Dr Biswell will be returning to the North later in the week, cheers cheers, but there will unfortunately be a couple of days gap, which our neighbours have cheerfully agreed to cover. Miss Dog will go up to the cottage and bundle in with her best friend. Miss Cat is more of a problem, but for a couple of days, she can jolly well stay in; she has a tray, even though she hates using it, and people will come and ensure that she has food and water. She is very friendly with the Apparitional Gamekeeper, so he will be Catmeister. But I have been giving some thought, indeed worry, to the prospect that she would have rather a boring time, and wondering what could be done about it. Anyway, in the small hours of the morning, I was woken by ‘Scutterscutterscutter THUD sqeee! scutterscutter’ which even a moment’s thought decoded as A Mouse, plus Miss Cat. This was repeated at intervals during the night, though at about seven, Miss Cat jumped onto the bed and settled into heavy and refreshing slumber, which suggests, on the whole, that she caught the mouse eventually, and ate it. But where there is one mouse, there may be others. And the reason why I did not, contrary to my usual practice, get up and try to intervene is that as all cats know, where there is one mouse, there may be others. Miss Cat will barely be detachable from our bed, for, at a guess, about three days, contentedly engaged in vigilant sentry-duty. How extraordinarily convenient.