Billy received the news of little Kate's coming with outspoken delight.
“The very thing!” she cried. “We'll have her for a flower girl. She was a dear little creature, as I remember her.”
Aunt Hannah gave a sudden low laugh.
“Yes, I remember,” she observed. “Kate told me, after you spent the first day with her, that you graciously informed her that little Kate was almost as nice as Spunk. Kate did not fully appreciate the compliment, I fear.”
Billy made a wry face.
“Did I say that? Dear me! I was a terror in those days, wasn't I? But then,” and she laughed softly, “really, Aunt Hannah, that was the prettiest thing I knew how to say, for I considered Spunk the top-notch of desirability.”
“I think I should have liked to know Spunk,” smiled Marie from the other side of the sewing table.
“He was a dear,” declared Billy. “I had another 'most as good when I first came to Hillside, but he got lost. For a time it seemed as if I never wanted another, but I've about come to the conclusion now that I do, and I've told Bertram to find one for me if he can. You see I shall be lonesome after you're gone, Marie, and I'll have to have something,” she finished mischievously.
“Oh, I don't mind the inference—as long as I know your admiration of cats,” laughed Marie.
“Let me see; Kate writes she is coming the tenth,” murmured Aunt Hannah, going back to the letter in her hand.