'Please, Aunt Lucy,' said Rosalie timidly, 'is there a bird?'
'Where, dear?' said Mrs. Leslie, looking round her. 'I don't see one.'
'No, not here in the garden,' explained Rosalie; 'I mean in your house.'
'No, there's no bird, dear child. What made you think there was one?'
'Oh, I'm so glad, so very, very glad!' said Rosalie, with tears in her eyes. 'Then, may I bring her?'
'Bring who, Rosalie dear? I don't understand.'
'Oh, Aunt Lucy,' said the child, 'don't be angry. I have a little kit here under my shawl. She's the dearest little kit; and we love each other so much, and if she had to go away from me I think she would die. She loved me when no one else in the lodging-house did, except Betsey Ann; and if only she may come, I'll never let her go in any of the best rooms, and I won't let her be any trouble.' When she had said this, she lifted up the shawl, and brought out the black kitten, and looked up beseechingly into her aunt's face.
'What a dear little kitten!' said her aunt. 'May will be pleased with it, she is so fond of kittens; and only the other day I promised her I would get one. Bring her in, and she shall have some milk.'
A great load was lifted off little Rosalie's heart when Mrs. Leslie said this, for it would have been a very great trial to her to part from her little friend.
Rosalie's uncle received her very kindly, and said, with a pleasant smile, that he was glad the little prairie flower had been found at last, and was to blossom in his garden. Then she went upstairs with her Aunt Lucy to get ready for dinner. She thought she had never seen such a beautiful room as Mrs. Leslie's bedroom. The windows looked out over the fields and trees to the blue hills beyond.