And then she began to think, that perhaps it was rather unkind in her not to go and look after poor old Glumdalkin, who was, no doubt, in no very happy mood. So, screwing up her courage as well as she could, she trotted up stairs, and, finding that the princess was just entering the drawing-room, she slipped in after her. The fire was blazing gloriously; but, at first, Friskarina was quite unable to see anything of her second cousin once removed, (I'm afraid Friskarina now and then sincerely wished her removed altogether!) for though the fire was bright, there were no candles in the room, and it was a very large one, so that the further extremity of it was rather dark. So she began looking round, for she could not imagine where the old cat could be gone to: at last, quite at the far end, she thought she perceived some black object behind one of the chairs, and, on going up to it, found Glumdalkin, with her eyes closed, her head very erect, her tail curled very tight round her toes, and her whole person apparently immovable, except, now and then, an angry twitch at the end of her tail.

Friskarina saw plain enough that she was not asleep; so, as she really felt rather sorry for her, she asked her if she did not feel cold, sitting so far from the fire.

'I beg, Ma'am, you won't trouble yourself about me,' was the gracious reply; 'if I chose to sit by the fire, I should do so: I suppose the princess would not order me out!' this was said with such a strange kind of hysterical laugh, that Friskarina thought she was going to burst into a fit of crying.

'Come,' she said, kindly, 'don't be so unhappy, my dear Glumdalkin! I am sure the princess did not mean to be unkind to you; I do think she was only afraid you might, perhaps, not be quite careful enough—might take more than was really good for you; I'm quite certain she did not intend anything uncivil.'

'And do you mean to say,' screamed Glumdalkin, 'that, at my time of life, I'm to be dictated to by a young thing like the princess, and that I can't be trusted to eat my dinner? No, indeed, I won't submit to it! I'm not going to bear such indignities! The princess will find out her mistake when I am gone.'

'But,' said Friskarina, very gently, 'what can you do?'

'Do!' said Glumdalkin, striking her paw with great violence upon the top of a footstool, 'do! why, can't I leave the palace? You don't suppose I shall remain here another day, do you? I shall look out for another situation directly—a cat like myself won't go a-begging.'

Friskarina was so astonished at this sudden resolve, that it was a minute or two before she could answer; at length, she quietly asked when Glumdalkin intended to quit the palace.

'To-morrow, decidedly;' replied Glumdalkin, 'perhaps I may stay till after dinner, there's a basket of fish just come in, and I am really not strong enough to encounter the fatigue of the thing in a morning, it will be a great trial to me—very great.' And Glumdalkin put her paw up to her eyes for a few moments; but Friskarina thought it did not look at all wet when she put it down.

'I am very much concerned for you,' she said; 'and I do strongly recommend to you not to think of going away: you will be lost in the snow, and I am sure you would not like to take shelter in any of the cottages; think what wretched places they are! What will become of you? you will lose your way in the woods, or fall a prey to some wild beast; do pray think better of it.'