We have the Real World Consultant and the Nottingham Correspondent here. Nothing doubtful about that. But along with the N.C. comes her friend and companion of many years, who is elderly and irenic in temperament, but unfortunately, also fluffy, black and white, and given to going miaw. That is, from the viewpoint of Miss Kit, a Vile Interloper to be scorned utterly, and an object of dread and paranoia. The Doubtful Guest is himself distinctly doubtful about dogs, even poor old Miss Best Friend, so there is a good deal of paranoia about at floor level one way and another. The Guest is all that is purry and amiable, and is doing his level best to indicate that he intends no harm, but after Miss Kit’s misadventures with her dreadful Governess, she is wholly disinclined to trust him. The Guest was allowed to become free range today, rather than being a mystery voice behind a door, and I think Miss Kit is hiding out in the wood. We are all living for the day when the quadrupeds all decide the ones they don’t like are invisible. Meanwhile, Miss Kit has, at least, religion to console her. When the Professor was reading in bed the other morning, she declared herself to be an Anglo-Catholic and hurled herself upon a recently acquired book about Sir Ninian Comper. She is now howling for rose-red damask and the right sort of incense, and says that she intends to worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness. Or voliness, perhaps. It’s sometimes quite hard to tell with cats.