“How ever shall we find two good homes?” she said to Dennis as they went up-stairs. But Dennis never looked at the troublesome side of life, if he could avoid it.
“It’ll be jolly to keep all three of them for three weeks, won’t it?” he said. “How pleased Madam would be if she knew!”
“We must get up very early to-morrow, and go and tell her,” said Maisie.
“It matters most to tell Tom,” said Dennis; “because if he finds them in the loft, he’ll drown them straight off in a bucket.”
The horror of this suggestion, and the future of the two kittens if they escaped this danger, kept Maisie awake for a long while that night.
She slept in a tiny room opening out of Aunt Katharine’s, and she knew how dreadfully late it must be, when she heard her aunt moving about, and saw the light of her candle underneath the door. After that, however, she soon went to sleep, with the kittens, their homes, and Tom the stable-boy, all jumbled up together in her head.