‘Your most affectionate brother,
‘G. KENDAL.’
‘I say, Smut,’ quoth Maurice, ‘I think you and our Tabby would make two famous horses for Awkey’s little cart. I shall take you home and harness you.’
Sophy sat breathless at his indifference. ‘You mustn’t,’ she said in hasty anger; ‘Smut is not yours.’
‘Well, Jack said that our Tabby had two kittens up in the loft; I think they’ll make better ponies. I shall go and try them!’
‘Don’t plague the kittens.’
‘I’ll not plague them; I’ll only make ponies of them. Give me the letter.’
‘No, not to play with the cats. I thought you would have cared about such a letter!’
‘You have no right to keep it! It is mine; give it me!’ cried Maurice, passionately.
‘Promise to take real care of it.’
He only tore it from her, and was gone.