"Well, yes." Now Nigel was shy, keeping his eyes lowered as he spoke to this unfamiliar older boy. "As soon as I got back from Uncle Teddy's, I took her from Earnest's room and hid her up here. I've been sneaking her food from the pantry. She's very easy to keep hidden. All she does is sleep and eat. Though she hasn't been eating as much as she usually does." Nigel gave an apologetic look, as though he felt what he was about to say was foolish. "I think perhaps she misses Earnest." "Oh! I'm sure she must," Viv exclaimed with startling sincerity. "My own cat misses me terribly when I'm away. Everyone tells me she howls at my bedroom door all night."

Nigel glanced up, and spoke in a voice like that of a banker discussing figures: "Does she really?"

Cyril stood watching the both of them, trying not to laugh.

"Yes, she does." Vivian had the presence of mind not to start rambling. "I'm sure Earnest will be very happy to have his cat with him again."

"So he will," agreed Cyril. "Nigel-- Vivian is Earnest's friend."

"Is he really?" Nigel raised his eyebrows, and Cyril wondered if the boy was actually going to become a banker when he grew up. Cyril hoped not. "That's wonderful. I always hoped Earnest would have friends-- real friends, I mean."

Cyril found himself wondering something else about Nigel then. Did the boy have any friends of his own? It would be rude to ask, but Cyril hoped he did have friends, someone somewhere he could talk to. Otherwise his life in this house must be almost unbearably lonely. He examined Nigel's face carefully for the signs of loneliness, but Nigel was not an easy boy to read, and all Cyril could see was a tiredness, which might have been attributed merely to a few sleepless nights. He couldn't be sure. He would have volunteered to be Nigel's friend himself, but he knew Leigh would not permit it. Nor could Vivian be Nigel's friend. Leigh would scarcely permit his only son to associate with the son of Cyril's unnatural lover. Cyril could do nothing but hope that Nigel would be well, that he would grow up soon and find some way to leave this place, before its architecture effected his own internal architecture. He could only assume that the boy had a particularly strong inner structure, in that he had not been twisted or broken thus far, as Earnest had. Cyril smiled to himself. No, this boy would be fine without his help.

"Come along, Vivian," Cyril said. "We must be getting back before your father discovers where we've gone. Or before Nigel's father decides we have been here long enough."

Vivian rose to his feet, Buttons cradled in his arms. The cat continued to purr, as though she did not notice having been lifted. Cyril thought he had never seen a plumper nor a more contented cat. Her eyes were closed, her whiskers vibrating with the strength of her purring. Cyril shook his head. There could, he thought, be no greater foil for Earnest than this feline.

Nigel lead them to the door, and they had their leave-taking there. It was the servants' door, as they deemed it wiser not to try Leigh's patience by leaving through the front door. "It was nice to see you, Uncle Cyril," said Nigel with a bow. "Nice to meet you, Vivian." He gave Vivian a bow of his own.

"Nice to meet you too." Vivian grinned. "I hope we'll meet again."

"I'm sure you will," Cyril assured him. "Though I warn you, it might be a while."

Nigel sighed. "Yes, probably it will."

"Look on the bright side, Nigel! With your father's temper, it surely won't be long before he as an attack of apoplexy."

"Oh!" Nigel looked mildly scandalized, but Cyril had managed to shock a small laugh out of him.

"Believe me," Cyril assured him, "I shall do my best to hasten the day." Nigel thought he was joking, he saw, but no-- he meant it. There were some people Cyril felt the world would be better off without, morals be damned. It was a shame that it was the people the world would be better off without who seemed to flourish so often, while the people the world needed, in his experience, fell to the wayside one by one. Not him, of course. He never would. He smiled at Nigel and Vivian. Hopefully they wouldn't either. A few decent ones had to survive. "Don't be too downtrodden," he told Nigel. "And if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to come to me."

He went to Vivian's side. Reaching down, he scratched Buttons beneath her chin. There was a slight increase in the volume of the cat's purring. "You're a lucky creature, do you know that?" Cyril asked. The cat continued to purr in Vivian's arms.

Once they'd returned to Cyril's house, Buttons having purred through the duration of the carriage ride, Vivian had one more thing to do before he returned home-- lamentably late, he didn't doubt-- for dinner. When he entered Earnest's room, Earnest was asleep, but the sound of footsteps crossing the floor towards him startled him awake, and his eyes snapped open. The very last strains of daylight still colored the sky, just enough for Vivian to see Earnest's face, to see the fear in his eyes, and even though he knew the fear was not for him, it saddened him.

"Here you are," said Vivian in a soft voice, smiling to calm him. "Look, I've brought someone to see you."

Earnest stared. He opened his mouth then closed it again, and his eyes had the look of someone who had awakened from one dream to find themselves in another. "Is that--"

"Yes, it's Buttons." Gently, Vivian lowered the cat, putting her down on the bed beside Earnest. The cat opened her eyes, looked at Earnest, and meowed in a loud voice. It was the first time Vivian had heard her made any sound save purring. She hurried across the mattress to the center, where Earnest's still form lay, and butted her head against him, meowing again, in an even louder voice. To Vivian's surprise, Earnest started to cry. It was a sudden crying; one moment he was still and his eyes were dry, the next his face was wet with tears and he was shaking.

"Oh no. Please don't." Without thinking, Vivian went to Earnest, sat beside him. "I didn't mean to upset you. Are you all right?" He realized his hands were moving over Earnest's cheeks, wiping the tears away. He realized Earnest had stopped crying, as suddenly as he had started, was staring at him with those unreadable catlike eyes of his. "Are you all right?" Vivian asked again, as Earnest hadn't answered him.

"Yes. Yes, I'm all right," said Earnest, and Vivian realized it was a stupid question to ask of someone who could barely move because his body was broken in a thousand places. But Earnest's tone was sincere. "How did you--"

"Cyril took me to--" Vivian thought perhaps he shouldn't mention more about their visit than was necessary. It might upset Earnest. "To fetch her." He wanted to tell Earnest about other things: that he'd met Earnest's step-father, that he'd seen Earnest's room, what Nigel had done, but he didn't want Earnest to cry again.

Buttons meowed a third time, butting Earnest more forcefully with her head. "She's all right," said Earnest wonderingly. "I thought she must be dead."

"She's fine. I've never seen a happier cat. She's wonderful, really."

"But she wants me to pet her," said Earnest in a small voice as Buttons meowed again. "I can't pet her."

"You'll be able to pet her soon," said Vivian quickly, to avoid further tears. "And I'm sure she loves you all the same. Don't worry. She missed you, you know." He saw that his hands were still lingering by Earnest's face, fingertips idly tracing the lines of his jaw and cheekbones, and he pulled them away.

"Vivian," said Earnest, staring at him. The expression in those gray eyes was as inscrutable as ever, but now there was assuredly something living below the surface of them.

"Yes?" Vivian felt all at once unaccountably nervous, like a sailor out at sea, suspicious of the depths he didn't know. "What is it?"

"Thank you."

"It was nothing." Really, it was nothing. What had he done? It was Uncle Cyril who had taken him to Leigh's house, and it was Nigel who had kept Buttons safe. "I didn't do anything."

"Yes, you did."

"Well, I don't know what it could have been."

Buttons, having apparently decided that for all the insistence of her meowing, Earnest was not going to pet her, climbed up onto Earnest's chest and circled there a few times before collapsing into a contentedly purring white ball of fur, with little black splotches on her chest and tail. The splotches did, thought Vivian as he examined them in the fading light, look just a little like buttons. He could see how a child would have thought they did, and he allowed himself a moment to contemplate what Earnest had been like when he was that age, of an age when he could see spots as buttons. "I don't care if you know," said Earnest stubbornly and a little sulkily. "I know, and that's what's important." And without another word, without allowing Vivian the chance to question him further, his eyes drifted shut, and he fell back asleep with Buttons curled up on his chest. Laudanum was powerful stuff, thought Vivian, smiling.

"Goodnight, Earnest," he whispered.

Buttons opened her eyes, blinked at him, and gave a tiny meow.

Vivian laughed. "Goodnight, Buttons." He took his leave.