"Would you, little tiger?" asked Mrs. Wright, closing her hand over the cat's face and giving it a little shake.
Pluto was beginning to consider that women were a sad mistake. He struggled to get free and Eliza dropped him.
"How the spring has stolen past us," said Mrs. Wright. "Do you realize Eliza that even June is moving on its way? Look over there at the Fabian cottage."
"Why that's James out on the veranda."
"Yes, he has had a letter from Mrs. Fabian. She wants him to open the house. To-day is Kathleen Fabian's Commencement."
"That's so," said Eliza coolly. "You showed me the invitation."
"It was rather nice of her to remember me, way off here, and little as I know them."
"I guess Kathleen would be an agreeable enough girl if she was let alone," said Eliza.
She had for some time now given up anxiety lest the high words over the barrel in Phil's studio bear bad fruit for him; for a letter had set her mind at rest on that score, and she felt instinctively that she had Kathleen Fabian to thank for that.
"But any girl would be slow to cut off friendly relations with a feller like Mr. Sidney," she considered, prejudice still holding her in a strong grasp.