“Faith, I aimed at his yow,” said Biddy the next morning, “and have rayson to think I hit it.”
Biddy was to take Ivanhoe with her, because she feared that no one else would have him, and she had a married sister in the country who had promised to be a mother to him. And Elijah was sent to the farm to comfort Mustard, who had not been able to get along at all with Senator Hicks. But Paul Jones and Proserpine were to remain in the house, as the new tenants had expressed a desire to keep them, and as these tenants were of the kind who know how to arrange a most attractive string and paper for one’s tail, the kittens never missed Clytie at all.
Clytie missed them for a time, and then the charm of being an only cat began to grow on her. The doctors petted her; the nurses made her a fine gingham collar of the stuff like their uniforms, to show that she belonged to the hospital staff.
Torn-nose came often to see her, and gave her some valuable hints about keeping mice out of the basements; it seems that there is a certain way of catching them that saves time and strength, when one has to do it by the quantity.
“Why do you wear that kind of collar?” he asked one night.
“To show that I’m a hospital cat,” Clytie said. “I help care for the sick, like the doctors and nurses, only I do different things.”
A few nights after this Clytie was sitting up alone in the hall with the night-watchman, when she heard a mournful cry from outside. It sounded like the voice of Torn-nose, but there was something so sad about it, that she jumped off the watchman’s lap, and ran as fast as possible to see what was the matter.
“Pur-r-e-ow, Torn-nose, where are you?” she called; but there was no answer, and, after a long search, she found the poor old warrior lying quite helpless on the grass, with a dreadful wound in his side.
“Oh, what has happened!” Clytie cried. “What cruel person has done this?”
Torn-nose tried to speak, but the words died away in his throat, and only a faint purr reached Clytie’s ears. But Clytie knew what happened in the hospital, when people lay very still, and did not answer questions—the doctor was sent for; and as she listened, she could hear the step of Dr. Haskell, the young man who had been Eunice’s friend, on his night round.