"What a splendid cat!" said Kathleen.
"Yes," agreed Phil. "Come here, Katze, and see the lady." He seized Pluto and handed him over to Kathleen."
"Oh, get out," said Edgar. "I hate cats."
His sister moved Pluto over to her other side where he drove his claws into the blanket with satisfaction while she caressed him.
"He'll soil your glove," said Eliza; "his hair comes out some." She resented the Fabian touch on her pet, and Edgar's remark had sent color to her sallow cheeks.
"I'd like a muff made of him," drawled Kathleen.
"Too late," said Phil. "He's going to Maine to-night with Eliza."
"He isn't your cat, then?" said the girl, and brushed her glove.
"No, Eliza refuses to give him to me."
"There's that oil stove," remarked Edgar. "I don't know what there is so particularly virtuous about an oil stove; but mother throws yours at me every time we have an argument."