Gypsy, trying to get up, tripped on her dress and fell, and away flew the kitten, all tangled in the apron, making for the door as fast as an energetic kitten could go.
"She'll be downstairs, and maybe Miss Cardrew's there! Oh!"
Joy sprang after the creature, caught her by the very tip end of her tail just as she was preparing to pounce down the stairs, and ran with her to Miss Cardrew's desk.
"Put her in—quick, quick!"
"O-oh, she won't lie still!"
"Where's the lunch-basket? Give me some biscuit—there! I hear them on the stairs!"
The kitten began to mew piteously, struggling to get out with all her might. Down went the desk-cover on her paws.
"There now, lie still! Oh, hear her mew! What shall we do?"
Quick footsteps were on the stairs—halfway up; merry laughter, and a dozen voices.
"Here's the biscuit. Here, kitty, kitty, poor kit-ty, do please to lie still and eat it! Oh, Joy Breynton, did you ever?"