“Hatty, will you take that hideous cat down and be quiet?” cried I.
“Dear, dear! To think of her calling you a hideous cat! Doesn’t that show how angry she is? People should not get angry—should they, Pussy? She will box our ears next. I really think we had better go, my darling tabby.”
So off went Hatty with the cat in her arms, but as she was going down the stairs, she said, I am sure for me to hear,—
“We will come some other time, won’t we, Pussy? when the dragon is out of her den: and we will have a quiet rummage, you and I; and we’ll find her love-letters!”
Now is not that too bad? What is one to do? Job could not have kept his temper if he had lived with Hatty. I wish she would get married—I do! Fanny never interferes with any one—she just goes her way and lets you go yours. And when Sophy interferes, it is only because something is left untidy, or you have not done something you promised to do. She does not tease for teasing’s sake, like Hatty.
And then, when I came down, after having composed my face, and passed Hatty on my way into the parlour, what should she say but,—
“Didn’t you wish I was in Heaven just now?”
“I should not have cared where you were, if you had kept out of the garret!” said I.
Hatty gave one of her odious giggles, and away she went.
Now, how can I live at peace with Hatty, will anybody tell me?