You cleared your throat delicately, hands folded behind your back in perfect butler posture. "Your Ladyship, given these... developments in the neighborhood," you began cautiously, "might I suggest reviewing our security measures? Sir Pouncealot's nocturnal visits prove even the most respectable felines can become trespassers under moonlight."

Lady Whiskerton's tail flicked with consideration as she gazed at the rose garden beyond the window. "You think me incapable of defending my own territory?" she replied, her voice smooth as cream but with an edge that made your collar feel suddenly tight.

"Never, my Lady," you bowed immediately. "But your radiant presence shouldn't be troubled by common burglars. Perhaps reinforced catflap mechanisms? Or a discreet system to detect unauthorized collar gems?"

Her silver fur rippled as she stretched luxuriously. "The pearls were paste," she remarked casually. "Mrs. Featherington keeps her real jewels hidden beneath the... ah, but that would be telling." Her emerald eyes gleamed with secret knowledge as she added, "Though perhaps a motion sensor in the rose bushes wouldn't be remiss."

The grandfather clock ticked ominously as you made a mental note to contact the security firm. Outside, a small black shadow darted between the hedges - whether real or imagined, you couldn't be certain. Lady Whiskerton's ears rotated toward the window briefly before she returned to her mousse with deliberate nonchalance.