I ran down to the basement. The cook was getting breakfast and there was plenty of food lying about. I found two nice little broiled kidneys. I just had to taste a little bit myself, it was so good. Then I ran like a fox up-stairs.
No one met me. The servants were all in the rooms, sweeping and dusting and getting things ready for the family. Soon the Denvilles would be coming down, for they are not lazy people.
I bounded in Mary's room. I went under the bed, the cat was not there. I dropped the kidneys in a terrible fright. I crept softly round the room. I ran out in the hall, I went up-stairs and down, and at intervals I kept coming back to the bedroom. Where was my poor friend?
At last, I pulled myself up short. I was getting dazed, and I was depending too much on my eyes, as a kitten is apt to do. I went back to the bed and smelt. She had been here recently. I lifted my head. The air was still full of Common cat suggestions. I followed my nose, and now just let me think of my utter surprise and consternation—There was the Common cat curled up on my chair, in the midst of my opera cloak.
I was very angry. I say it with shame. She was in my place—usurping the attention of my young mistress, for there lay little Mary, wide awake, her head resting on her arm, her face turned toward the cat on the chair, a smile of utter beatitude playing about her lips.
She was afraid of frightening the newcomer, but she need never be afraid of that. I have made a discovery. The Common cat is not shy—she is bold. That is, she is shy with enemies, but bold with friends. Or perhaps I should say, sneaky. She would not have jumped up on that chair, if I had been in the room. She took advantage of my absence.
Perhaps I did wrong to be angry, but it was an awful blow to find her on my soft bed. I sprang right up beside little Mary. I tucked my head under her arm, and she stroked and caressed me.
“Oh, you dear thing—you are so sweet and generous. You don't mind that strange cat being in your chair one bit.”
“Meow! meow!” I cried angrily, “I do.”
Mary was so taken up with the other cat that she never minded me, but went on absently patting my head, and looking at that creature that was pretending to be asleep.