Chapter Four

Later, Lawrence plodded across the Park (being careful not to look at his reflection in the boating-lake), and in Pevensey Place he called in at The Cedars, which was opposite The Gables. Here lived the fourth of the boys, a Blue Persian tom by the name of Darius.

Darius was not only extremely handsome, with his small wide-set ears and his big round eyes and his snub nose and his long flowing blue coat. He was also much more intelligent than Bert or Fred or Percy.

“What’s up, Barclay-Lloyd, old boy?” he said when he saw Lawrence. “You’re puffing and blowing like a grampus. You’re going to have to do something about yourself, you know.”

“The Colonel and his wife only feed me once a day,” said Lawrence.

“I dare say,” replied Darius. “But look here, Barclay-Lloyd, old boy, I wasn’t born yesterday, you know. You’re getting more than one meal a day, aren’t you now?”

“Yes,” said Lawrence.

“How many?”

“Four altogether.”

“So at three other houses besides The Gables?”

“Yes.”

“Bad show, Barclay-Lloyd,” said Darius. “You’ll have to cut down. If you don’t, then in my opinion you’re going to eat yourself to death. Just think how much better you’ll feel if you lose some of that weight. You won’t get so puffed, you’ll be leaner and fitter, and your girlfriend will find you much more attractive.”

“I haven’t got a girlfriend, Darius,” said Lawrence sadly.

“And why is that, Barclay-Lloyd, old boy?” said Darius. “Ask yourself why.”

“Because I’m too fat?’

“Undoubtedly.”

“A figure of fun, would you say?”

“Afraid so.”

“Actually, girls do tend to giggle at me.”

“Not surprised.”

Lawrence took a deep breath. “All right,” he said. “I’ll do it, Darius. I’ll go on a diet.”

“Good show, Barclay-Lloyd,” said Darius.

“I’ll cut down to three meals a day,” said Lawrence.

“One.”

“Two?”

“One,” said Darius firmly. “One good meal a day is all any cat needs.”