'It will be dreadfully messy,' answered Auntie May. 'I must do it in an old frock and my art pinafore.'
'Oh, Auntie May, I shall love to see you in a pinafore! You will look like a big French doll—that one of mine that Kitty spoiled.'
'Hush, don't speak ill of the absent. I daresay Kitty enjoyed the destruction of Wilhelmina very much, as much as Petronilla liked mumbling my white satin shoes last year. I forgave her. One must pay for one's pets.'
'And I forgave Kitty,' said Rosamond; 'besides, I am twelve now and past dolls. When shall we begin to feed the kittens?'
'Wait a bit!' mother said; but, of course, once having got the idea into Their heads, they took no notice. Auntie May got the big pinafore she had when she was an art student, out of a box, and put it on. Then she fetched a tiny china spoon with forget-me-nots all over it, and sent Rosamond down for some milk and some hot water. Then Rosamond and she squatted down on the floor beside our bed, and mother eyed them scornfully over the edge of it.
'Now, you silly old Petronilla, we are going to relieve you of some of your work. Four kittens are too much for you. You are beginning to look rather fagged in spite of Beef-tea and Kreochyle and Hovis food. Children, dear, you cost a pretty penny.'
These were the names of some of the messes They were continually bringing up in saucers and planting out by mother's bedside, and which she hopped out and licked up and came back again saying that Auntie May had a feeling heart and that she adored her, since, as every one ought to know, the way to a cat's heart is through its stomach, whatever may be the cause of affection afterwards. And mother did love Auntie May quite desperately much, and Auntie May could always see it in her eyes, though mother was not otherwise demonstrative.
Well, as I was saying, they managed to unhitch Fred's claws and mouth, and laid him in Auntie May's lap, and put the point of the little china spoon in between his teeth. He sputtered and choked, and he seemed to have a white beard when they let him alone again.
'He isn't taking any this time!' said Auntie May. There were white streams wandering through the rucks of her pinafore.
'Of course he is not taking any of your extraordinary preparation,' said mother. 'You are in too great a hurry to have him lap. He won't do it a moment before he is ready, and that will be when I decide to begin to wean him. You can try every day and you won't do him any harm, but you will only wet your pinafore.'