It would have been impossible to carry Trolley another step; too much out of breath to speak, and with cheeks which matched her jacket, she rested his weight on the broad arm of the chair while she unhooked his front paws from her shoulder. Walter watched her with very evident surprise.
“He sticks dreadfully,” she said, struggling with the burr-like paws.
“I should say so;” the detaching process was rather funny, and the invalid smiled.
Caro was feeling a little shy, and the smile put her at her ease. She had lived all her life among people who loved and petted her, and it did not enter her mind that she could be unwelcome anywhere unless she was naughty.
“I thought maybe you’d like to see him,” she explained.
“He is very handsome; is he your cat?”
“Why just see! He likes you,” Caro exclaimed, as after a few preliminary turns, Trolley curled himself up on the soft rugs and began to purr, thus expressing his unqualified approval of this resting place.
“Aren’t you the little girl I saw on the fence the other day? Why did you run away?”
Caro laughed; “I don’t know,” she said; and then feeling that her presence to-day needed to be explained more fully, she added, “I thought maybe you’d like to see Trolley, because he is such a comfort to me when I am lonely.”
“And did you think I was lonely?” There was a cloud on the young man’s face as he spoke.