Miss Mervyn looked as if that were likely to be her own case, but she only murmured that she had thought Philippa was enjoying herself, and that she had not liked to put a stop to the children’s amusements. The band meanwhile stood disconsolate. Philippa’s face had its fretful look, and everything was rather uncomfortable. Mrs Trevor glanced round in despair, and it was at this moment that Maisie gave things a welcome turn by stealing up to her cousin’s side, and saying softly, “Where’s the white kitten?”
The kitten had been on her mind ever since she arrived: she had not seen it, and did not even know that it had been received, for in the excitement of her party Philippa had quite forgotten to thank her cousins for their present.
“Ah!” said Mrs Trevor, in a tone of relief, “the kitten, to be sure.—Take Maisie to find the kitten, my darling, and have a quiet little game together in the schoolroom. I daresay Dennis will like to stay here, and play with the others until tea-time.”
For a wonder, Philippa was quite ready to do what was proposed, and the two little girls went away together.
“Did you like it?” asked Maisie anxiously. “It’s pretty, isn’t it? And it keeps itself very white. It’s the prettiest of all the kittens—next to ours.”
“I like it very much,” said Philippa graciously, “but it scratches. Miss Mervyn says it’s a savage kitten.”
“They all scratch, you know,” said Maisie seriously, as they entered the schoolroom; “when they’re quite little, they don’t know better. You’ll have to teach it to be good.”
“How?” asked Philippa, looking round the room for the kitten, which was nowhere to be seen.
“Entirely by kindness,” said Maisie, using an expression she had seen in one of her books.
“It’s hidden itself again,” said Philippa discontentedly; “it’s always hiding itself.”