Miss Emelene fell to stroking the cat, again curled like a sardelle in her lap.
"Kitti-kitti-kitti—, does muvver's ittsie Hanna want to go on visit to Tousin George in fine new ittie house? To fine Tousin Georgie what give ittsie Hanna big saucer milk evvy day? Big fine George what like ladies and lady kitties!"
"Emelene, it's out of the question to take Hanna. You know how George Remington hates cats! You remember at the Sunday School Bazaar when—" A grimness descended like a mask over Miss Brand's features. Her mouth thinned.
"Very well, then. Without Hanna you can count me out, Penfield. If—"
"No, no! Why nonsense, Miss Emelene! George doesn't—"
"This cat has the feelings and sensibilities of a human being."
"Why of course," cried Penfield Evans, reaching for his hat. "Just you bring Hanna right along, Miss Emelene. That's only a pet pose of George's when he wants to tease his relatives, Mrs. Smith. I remember from college—why I've seen George kiss a cat!"
Miss Emelene huddled the object of controversy up in her chin, talking down into the warm gray fur.
"Was 'em tryin' to 'buse muvver's ittsie bittsie kittsie? Muvver's ittsie bittsie kittsie!"
They were in the front hall now, Mr. Evans tugging at the door.