One afternoon when Mrs. van Warmelo and Hansie were returning home, as they passed the house occupied by one of the biggest "lords" in the British Army, they saw an exquisite black kitten sitting on the steps leading from the street to the garden.
Such a kitten! Coal black she was, except for a snowy shirt front and four dainty, snow-white paws.
A delicate ribbon of pale blue satin was fastened in a bow round her neck, and she blinked at the passers-by in friendly consciousness of her superior beauty.
"Oh, you darling!" Hansie exclaimed. "I wish you belonged to me!"
"She does," Mrs. van Warmelo answered, and stooping, she picked up the unresisting kitten and placed it in her daughter's arms.
It was done in a moment and was meant for a joke, but Hansie took the matter seriously and walked on, rapturously caressing her small "trophy of the war."
"Hansie, put that cat down," Mrs. van Warmelo said, looking anxiously up and down the street.
"No indeed, mother; you gave her to me."
"You know very well I did not mean you to keep her. I decline to have anything more to do with the matter."
She walked rapidly on and Hansie followed in some uncertainty, but holding on to her new-found treasure as if her life depended upon it.