She cut the cord as she spoke, and Philippa advanced languidly to the table to see what the hamper contained. When the lid was lifted, however, her expression changed to one of interest and surprise, for there, on a bed of straw, its fur beautifully clean, and a blue ribbon round its neck, lay the white kitten. It yawned as the light fell on it, and looking up at the strange faces, uttered a tiny mew.
“What is that card on its neck?” said Miss Mervyn.
“‘From Maisie and Dennis, with love and good wishes,’” read Philippa, in a pleased and excited voice. For the moment the musical box had quite gone out of her head.
“I like it best of all the presents I’ve had yet,” she said, and just then Mrs Trevor came into the room.
“Look, mother!” she exclaimed.
Seizing the kitten, she rushed forward and held it up to Mrs Trevor, whose gown was trimmed with an elegant ruffle of lace down the front; in this the kitten’s sharp little claws at once entangled themselves.
“Ah, my lace!” she cried. “Take care, my love; it will scratch you.—Miss Mervyn, pray remove the creature.—Yes, very pretty, my darling. Who sent it to you?”
“Dennis and Maisie,” said Philippa, squeezing the kitten under her arm. “May I have it to sleep on my bed?”
“Ah no, dear,” said Mrs Trevor absently, examining her torn lace with a slight frown; “that’s not the proper place for kittens. Dear me, what sharp claws the little thing has, to be sure! I must let Briggs mend this at once.”
She went out of the room, leaving the question to be further argued between Miss Mervyn and Philippa.