I am dreadfully sleepy. I wonder whether I shall dream of Maine or Serena.
CHAPTER IX
ON THE TRAIN
I have not had a good long think for some time. In the first place, I have been turned out of my bed, and I find that nothing upsets a little cat like being deprived of her usual sleeping-place. Then I found myself in a place where it was too hot and stuffy to think. I became tired and irritable, and at night I could neither sleep nor meditate. After we left the stuffy place, I found myself in this home where everything is so quiet, that I could do nothing for two nights but lie awake and think of the stillness.
You listen to the noises in the city and in the country you listen for them.
Let me see—when was it that I had the last good, long think, and made a review of my own conduct, and that of my friends and family?
It was just after Serena had left Mrs. Darley, and had come to the Denvilles'. That was the beginning of a very upsetting time for me. Serena kept me on the go for a long time. She would not stir without me, then she got more independent, and I was left in peace.
She never went home again before we came here, for we are now in lovely Maine. I did, several times. I got so bold that I would run up Joy Street quite by myself. My parents were always glad to see me, and Jimmy Dory regularly used to stand on his head for glee, when he saw me coming.
He missed Serena dreadfully, but he had no thought of running away himself. “The parents are a trifle dull for a young fellow like me,” he said, “but that is all the more reason why I should stay with them. They took care of me, and amused me, when I was a young fellow, and I ought to take care of them, and make things a little lively now that they are getting old. Then sometimes I go down in the kitchen and play with Jane. She is getting quite civilized.”
I approved of his sentiments, and told him so; then he used to ask me about Serena, and how she was getting on.
“Serena is quite a belle,” I said. “Cats come as far as from Arlington Street to call on her.”