“But I hope you’ll not encourage it up here, Miss Ruth, for I couldn’t abide it, and I’m sure your Aunt Clarkson wouldn’t approve of it neither. I’ve had a horror of cats myself from a gal. They’re that stealthy and treacherous, you never know where they mayn’t be hiding, or when they won’t spring out at you. If ever I catch it up here I shall bannock it down again.”
There was evidently no sympathy to be looked for from Nurse Smith; but Ruth was used to keeping her thoughts and plans to herself, and did not miss it much. As she could not talk about it, however, she thought of her new acquaintance all the more; it was indeed seldom out of her mind, and while she seemed to be quietly amusing herself in her usual way, she was occupied with all sorts of plans and arrangements for the cat when it should come to live in the nursery. Meanwhile it was widely separated from her; how could she let it know that she wanted to see it again? When she went up and down stairs she peered and peeped about to see if she could catch a glimpse of its hurrying grey figure, and she never came in from a walk without expecting to meet it on her way to the nursery. But she never did. The kitchen cat kept to its own quarters and its own society. Perhaps it had been too often “bannocked” down again to venture forth. And yet Ruth felt sure that it had been glad when she had spoken kindly to it. What a pity that Nurse did not like cats!
She confided all this as usual to the man in the picture, who received it with his narrow observant glance and seemed to give it serious consideration. Perhaps it was he who at last gave her a splendid idea, which she hastened to carry out as well as she could, though remembering Nurse’s strong expression of dislike she felt obliged to do so with the greatest secrecy.
As a first step, she examined the contents of her little red purse. A whole shilling, a sixpence, and a threepenny bit. That would be more than enough. Might they go to some shops that afternoon, she asked, when she and Nurse were starting for their walk.
“To be sure, Miss Ruth; and what sort of shops do you want? Toy-shops, I suppose.”
“N–no,” said Ruth; “I think not. It must be somewhere where they sell note-paper, and a baker’s, I think; but I’m not quite sure.”
Arrived at the stationer’s, Ruth was a long time before deciding on what she would have; but at last, after the woman had turned over a whole boxful, she came to some pink note-paper with brightly painted heads of animals upon it, and upon the envelopes also.
“Oh!” cried Ruth when she saw it, clasping her hands with delight. “That would do beautifully. Only—have you any with a cat?”
Yes, there was some with a nice fluffy cat upon it, and she left the shop quite satisfied with her first purchase.
“And now,” said Nurse briskly, whose patience had been a good deal tried, “we must make haste back, it’s getting late.”