“How did she get here, Black-Face—did you bring her in?—Oh! isn't it lovely. Why, I never heard of such a thing as that poor, shy cat coming right into a house. I would just like to hug her.”
“You needn't be afraid,” I growled, “she wouldn't mind. But still I hope you won't. I'm your cat,” and I tried to get between her and the stranger.
Mary laughed, and rubbed her face against my fur. “You darling thing. Now I know you did lead her in, for you are trying to push me toward her, and you weren't a bit surprised to see her here.”
I sprang off the bed. What was the use of being bad, when your little mistress was so good that she turned your worst actions into kind ones. With a very sad heart, I crept out in the hall—and, do you know, I had scarcely got out of sight, before I heard a deceitful “meow,” from that creature by the bed.
She was trying to ingratiate herself with little Mary, and for a few minutes, I had the pleasure of hearing nothing but sweet pussy talk from them both.
“Poor pussy, pussy, pussy,” Mary would say, then the Common cat would reply, “Meow! meow!” and then I knew Mary was scratching her head for her. In fact, I was mean enough to peep in through the crack of the door. It made me sick, and after a time I could not stand it, so I crept down-stairs.
One of the housemaids shook her broom at me, so I went down, down, till I got to the yard.
There was Mona sitting by her kennel, and looking as big and handsome as ever. “By the way,” I said to myself, “I ought to thank her for her kindness to me last night,” so I walked slowly up to her, and said, “Good morning, Mona.”
“Good morning,” she said kindly.
“I am ever so much obliged to you for what you did last night,” I went on. “It was perfectly sweet of you.”