'No, dear, she is not; her mother says she seems as if she could not shake off the effects of the whooping-cough.'
'Oh! and I had it at the same time, and I am quite well,' said Eva, in astonishment.
'Poor Jessie! she is a delicate little thing,' said Mrs. Polson. 'You must see what you can do to cheer her up, Eva.'
'Yes, Mother,' said Eva, thoughtfully.
When Eva and her mother arrived at Mrs. James's house, no Jessie was in the drawing-room to welcome them, and Mrs. James had to explain the reason.
'Poor Jessie, she is terribly upset,' she said, 'for only an hour ago her little cat was found dead in the garden. We are afraid it was poisoned. Jessie is fretting about it, and she is shy of showing herself with her red eyes, so she ran away to the nursery.'
'May I go to her?' asked Eva.
'Yes, dear, do,' answered Mrs. James; 'she will perhaps forget the poor cat in a game of play.'
Eva ran upstairs to the nursery, and did her best to comfort Jessie, but the poor child was languid and fretful, and could hardly put away the thought of her lost pet.
'It was such a dear little cat, and quite black all over,' she told Eva. 'There was not a white hair in it. I shall never see a quite black kitten again. Nurse says they are very rare; oh! I wish I had it back!' Again Jessie burst out crying, for she was worn out with grief, and hardly knew how to stop.