"Hetty, dear, think more of pleasing Him than of pleasing Miss Flo. If you'd thought for a moment, 'What would He tell me to do now?' you'd have remembered that you were not to leave the child."
Hetty listened, and thought how good Matty was, and how much she wished she was like her. But she had such a sad habit of only half attending to what was said to her, that she did not really take in the sense of her sister's words.
Hetty went home in good time, and took care of the baby so skilfully that he never cried once.
For a while all went well. Hetty had got such a fright that she really put her mind to her work, and when she did so, no girl could do better than she. But presently the impression made by her Saturday's adventure began to fade from her mind, which began to wander about "wool-gathering," as of old. Her day-dreams were very innocent, being principally concerned with that still unspent sixpence. The weather was fine, and they were out on the common for several hours of each day. Flo enjoyed this, and the fresh air made her sleepy, so that the day did not seem so long. Moreover, the kitten was a great pleasure to her. It was a frisky, jolly little kitten when awake, but it had good capacities for sleep, so that Flo and her kitten took their naps together in great comfort.
For some days Flora was in great anxiety about a name for the kitten, which she called Kit provisionally. A name pretty enough for so pretty a kitten was very hard to find—at least, so Flora thought.
Every one suggested names. Hetty thought Pinkie very pretty, and the kitten had such a dear little pink nose; but Flo scouted the idea with contempt. Mrs. Goodenough mentioned Fluffy, but that was regarded as an insult to the kitten's personal appearance. Lina said that all cats ought to be called Pussy. Flo was obliged to pretend not to hear this, she thought it so silly. Mrs. Eyre thought Pet would do nicely, but it did not satisfy Flo.
At last, waking up from a nice nap just in time for tea, Flora announced that the kitten must be named that very night, or she would begin to think that Kit was her real name. As the little creature, like all Persian cats, was quite deaf, there did not seem to be much danger of this.
"Now every one of you must think of a new name; none of those you have said before. Think hard, now. I'll give you time."
She counted twenty, and then said, "Now, mamma, you first."
"Queen Elizabeth would be a very grand name."