A pretty brown and white dove was walking up the steep roof of Dr. Gray's house just as the door-bell rang. Perhaps she heard the bell, for she stopped and pecked her wings, then flew down to the ground, and looked up to see who was there.
It was Kittyleen. Kittyleen was a snip of a girl, three years old, whose long name was Katharine Garland. She looked like the dove, for she was brown and white all over: brown eyes and hair, brown cloak, white fur cap, and white tippet.
Her young nurse, Martha, had come with her, but there is not much to say here concerning Martha, except that she had the toothache. She did not intend to enter the house; she had only come to escort Kittyleen.
"I want to wing the bell myse'f," said Miss Kittyleen, standing on tiptoe, and bursting a button off one of her brown boots. But she could not reach the bell.
Just then the doctor's daughter, Mary Gray, opened the door, and seeing Kittyleen, threw both arms around her, exclaiming,—
"Oh, you darling, I'm so glad you've come!"
"Well, I'm afraid you'll be sorry enough by and by," said Martha, with a one-sided smile, that made her look like a squirrel with a nut in his cheek. "She's full of mischief, Kittyleen is, and her ma's painting china, and wanted her out of the way. But if she's too much trouble, her ma wants you to send her right home."
"Oh, she won't trouble anybody. She and little Ethel will have a beautiful time together," said Mary, untying the child's white tippet.
Mary Gray, or Flaxie Frizzle, as people persisted in calling her sometimes, was nine years old, and had for some time felt a great care of Kittyleen. Everybody felt the care of Mrs. Garland's children. There were six of them, and their mother was always painting china. She did it beautifully, with graceful vines trailing over it, and golden butterflies ready to alight on sprays of lovely flowers. Sometimes the neighbors thought it would be a fine thing if she would keep her little ones at home rather more; but if she had done that she could not have painted china.