“Oh, yes. Why, only two nights ago——”
“What’s this? What’s this?” demanded the sharp, high voice of an old woman. “What are you standing there talking about, Elsie? With all those peaches waiting to be pared!”
All eyes turned naturally towards the old staircase, from which the sound of the voice was coming. Miss Grant slowly descended, holding her hand on her right side and grunting to herself as if the act of walking were painful to her. She was a woman of at least sixty-five, thin and wrinkled, but with little sharp black beady eyes that seemed to peer into everything suspiciously, as if she believed the whole world evil. She was wearing an old-fashioned black dress, and a dark shawl about her shoulders.
“These girls have found your kitten, Aunt Mattie,” Elsie informed her. “They rescued her from a tree.”
The black eyes softened, and the old woman came towards the girls.
“My precious little Puffy!” she exclaimed, as one might talk to a baby. Then her tone abruptly became harsh again as she turned to her niece.
“Go back to your work, Elsie!” she ordered gruffly. “I’ll attend to this!”
Without any reply the girl slunk away to the kitchen, and Miss Grant took the kitten from Jane.
“Tell me what happened to my poor little pet,” she said.
Briefly Jane repeated the story, with an emphasis upon Mary Louise’s prowess in climbing trees.