Her mother stood looking at her smilingly. Then another person came along, a taller person, and stood gazing at us over her shoulder.
I gave a loud and joyful meow, and sprang forward. That was Mrs. Darley's lovely face.
Oh! how glad I was to see her! I went round and round her. I rubbed my body against her. I sprang on her shoulder. I just burrowed in the fur collar of her coat, till she laughed and put me down.
“Oh, how do you do, Mrs. Darley!” said the mother of the little girl.
“Why—Mrs. Denville!” exclaimed Mrs. Darley in surprise, “I did not see you. I was so taken up with my kitten. I lost her yesterday.”
Little Mary's face was a study. She was trying hard not to be disappointed, but, in spite of herself, she could not help it.
“Oh, mamma, mamma,” she said in an undertone, “I have lost my kitty.”
Her mother looked at her, in the way my mother looks at her kittens when they want something and she is afraid she can't get it for them.
Then this lady—this Mrs. Denville—turned to my dear mistress. “This is my daughter, Mary,” she said. “Your arrival has dashed her hopes to the ground. She was hoping to become the proud possessor of this kitten.”
“Was she?” replied Mrs. Darley in her good-humored way. “Come here, my dear, and shake hands with me. You are a kind little girl. I can see by your eyes. Now, suppose I were to give you this kitty?”