"Because they're very rare cats, and you aren't ordinarily a very careful sort of person, Florence, if you don't mind my saying so. Besides, if I let you go near them, the next thing Herbert would be over here mussing around, and he can't go near anything without ruining it! It's just in him; he can't help it."
Florence looked thoughtful for a brief moment; then she asked: "Did Newland Sanders send 'em with the names already to them?"
"No," said Julia, emphasizing the patience of her tone somewhat. "I named them after they got here. Mr. Sanders hasn't seen them yet. He had them shipped to me. He's coming this evening. Anything more to-day, Florence?"
"Well, I was thinking," said Florence. "What do you think grandpa'll think about these cats?"
"I don't believe there'll be any more outrages," Julia returned, and her dark eyes showed a moment's animation. "I told him at breakfast that the Reign of Terror was ended, and he and everybody else had to keep away from Fifi and Mimi. Is that about all, Florence?"
"You let Kitty Silver go near 'em, though. She says she's fixing to wash 'em."
Julia smiled faintly. "I thought she would! I had to go so far as to tell her that as long as I'm housekeeper in my father's house she'd do what I say or find some other place. She behaved outrageously and pretended to believe the natural colour of Fifi and Mimi is gray!"
"I expect," said Florence, after pondering seriously for a little while—"I expect it would take quite some time to dry them."
"No doubt. But I'd rather you didn't assist. I'd rather you weren't even around looking on, Florence."
A shade fell upon her niece's face at this. "Why, Aunt Julia, I couldn't do any harm to Fifi and Mimi just lookin' at 'em, could I?"