Frowning slightly at the discrepancy, you excused yourself with another bow and returned to the weather globe. The brass mechanism ticked softly as you peered closely at the miniature rain clouds forming over the tiny western garden section. Outside the library's leaded windows, the sky remained stubbornly blue without a hint of moisture.

You knelt to examine the globe's base, where a series of intricate gears and dials controlled its predictions. A faint humming vibration met your fingertips - unusual, as the device typically operated in perfect silence. Your butler training had included basic maintenance of all estate mechanisms, and this was definitely not part of its normal operation.

As you carefully removed the access panel, a startled gasp escaped your lips. Nestled among the gears was a tiny mouse family, their makeshift home constructed from shredded parchment and down feathers. The mother mouse stood protectively before her babies, one paw resting on a crucial gear that controlled the precipitation prediction. Their tiny eyes gleamed with intelligence - and just a hint of mischief.

Lady Whiskerton's sudden voice from the doorway made you jump. 'I see you've found our... guests,' she purred, her tail twitching with amusement. The mice didn't flee at her presence, which was most unusual. 'They've been helping me test your observational skills,' she admitted, padding closer with evident pride in her clever ruse.