Brian turned away sadly enough; but he had not gone far when he heard flying footsteps, and looking back saw Erica once more.
“Oh, I just came to know whether by any chance you want a kitten,” she said; “I have a real beauty which I want to find a nice home for.”
Of course Brian wanted a kitten at once; one would have imagined by the eagerness of his manner that he was devoted to the whole feline tribe.
“Well, then, will you come in and see it?” said Erica. “He really is a very nice kitten, and I shall go away much happier if I can see him settled in life first.”
She took him in, introduced him to her mother, and ran off in search of the cat, returning in a few minutes with a very playful-looking tabby.
“There he is,” she said, putting the kitten on the table with an air of pride. “I don't believe he has an equal in all London.
“What do you call him?” asked Brian.
“His name is St. Anthony,” said Erica. “Oh, I hope, by the bye, you won't object to that; it was no disrespect to St. Anthony at all, but only that he always will go and preach to my gold fish. We'll make him do it now to show you. Come along Tony, and give them a sermon, there's a good little kit!”
She put him on a side table, and he at once rested his front paws on a large glass bowl and peered down at the gold fish with great curiosity.
“I believe he would have drowned himself sooner or later, like Gray's cat, so I dare say it is a good thing for him to leave. You will be kind to him, won't you?”