CHAPTER IV

I VISIT MY FAMILY

To-day I had quite an experience.

I have been in the Denvilles' family just three days, and the more I see of my young mistress the more I like her.

Actually, I have not done one bad thing since I came. My little mistress keeps me with her all the time. Her company is a great satisfaction to me, and a great safeguard. If some bad animals were allowed to be more in the society of the human beings they love, they also would improve.

Well, I have been closely watched to see that I did not run away. I have been even taken in the carriage to drive. Little Mary got an old muff of her mother—a huge, soft thing, and when we go out, she puts me in it. Oh! what fun I have sitting on the seat beside Mary, and staring at all the queer things in the streets. So many of them I have never seen before, and Mary explains them to me as politely as if I were a human being. Her nurse went with us one day, and her mamma went the other days.

On account of little Mary's delicate health she is always kept out-of-doors in the morning, while the sun is nice and warm, and she does lessons in the afternoon.

This morning when we started to drive she said, “Black-Face, suppose we go and call on your relatives?”

Now, I thought this was a perfectly sweet thing for her to say, so I mewed my approval, and Mary spoke to her nurse, and the nurse told the coachman to drive us to Mrs. Darley's.

Oh! how my heart beat when I saw that big green hall door. Just as soon as Gerty, the house-maid, opened it, I sprang out of the carriage and was into the house like a flash. Up the steps, and into the sitting-room I went. There they were, all on the window-seat—all the dear cats basking in the warm spring sunlight. I jumped in the midst of them. Didn't I give them a fright!

My dear mother uttered a little cry, my father drew himself up severely, and Serena forgot her fine manners for once, and gave me a smart cuff.

“Isn't that like Black-Face?” mewed Jimmy Dory; “but I'll make her say, 'I beg pardon,'” and he took me round the neck by his two paws till I squealed.

“Well, my dear kitten,” said my father, when we had all got ourselves straightened out, “how are you, and how are you getting on?”

This was a very proud moment for me. Of course I had been dreadfully homesick away from them all, but still it was worth going through everything to come back and be treated with so much consideration. They were all actually sitting around, waiting for me to speak. Now that had never happened to me before in my short life, and I licked my lips, and tried to speak slowly so as to make the pleasure last.

“To begin with,” I drawled, “I have nearly died of loneliness away from you all.”

“Oh, quit that,” said Jimmy Dory. “Tell us about your adventures. We saw the boy grab you, now go on. Mrs. Darley didn't tell half enough when she came from the cats' home.”

I began from the beginning. I told them about the bad boys and the good old man, and the good young one, and the cats' home, and dear little Mary Denville. Then I said anxiously, “Have you missed me?”

No one said a word, but my mother began to polish off my head, just as she had done every day since I was a tiny kitten. Indeed, the first thing I remember was my mother licking the top of my head. Just now, she polished off one ear, she polished off the other, she made me lower my head so she could get at the back of my neck, and as she licked, I was comforted. My dear mother had missed me, if the others hadn't.

My father was clearing his throat. “Well, you see,” he said with a proud, approving glance at me, “cats are attached to their offspring, but they are well pleased to see them settled in life—comfortably settled, I mean. Now I should say that, your first catastrophe over, you had fallen on your feet. The Denvilles' establishment is a very fine one.”

“Are you happy there?” purred my mother in my ear.

“Now I am,” I mewed softly. “At first I was dreadfully miserable——” Then I raised my voice. “I am not complaining,” I said, addressing my father. “That would be ungrateful. Why, I am first in the affections of my little mistress. I believe she likes me better than she does her parents.”

“Hem! hem!” growled my father doubtfully, while Serena and Jimmy Dory burst out laughing.

“Well, anyway,” I said in some confusion, “she just surrounds me with comfort from morning till night. She never leaves me. I go everywhere with her, and there is not another cat about the place.”

“Then there must be dogs,” cried Jimmy Dory promptly, “and we all love dogs—oh! yes!”

“Yes, there are dogs,” I returned snappishly, “but they were kept away from me at first so they wouldn't frighten me.”

“How many of the detestable creatures have you?” inquired Serena grandly, and she threw up her head, and looked at me as if she had glasses on. It is her usual trick. She thinks it is smart to pretend that she has a pair of spectacles over the bridge of her nose. She knows it makes me feel small and kittenish, and as if I don't know anything.

“There are two,” I said, “and I have got used to them already. They are the two best dogs that were ever made.”

“You speak in superlatives, my dear child,” purred Serena elegantly. “What breed are the creatures?”

“One is a tiny spaniel,” I replied crossly, “and one is a St. Bernard.”

“The two breeds I most dislike,” murmured Serena. “How tiresome, I shall not be able to go to see you.”

“Don't mind her,” purred my mother in my ear. “She and Jimmy have been contrary and nervous since you left. They miss you very much, and so does your dear father.”

“By the way,” I said, “what became of the cat Mrs. Darley brought home to take my place? 'Jane' she called her.”

“Oh! that vulgar creature,” exclaimed Serena elevating her nose. “We soon chased her down-stairs. She undertook to fight, but I settled her.”

“She is happier in the kitchen,” murmured my mother. “She is a peculiar cat.”

“What do you get to eat at your house?” inquired Jimmy Dory suddenly, and smacking his lips as he spoke.

“Oh, delicious things,” I replied; “cream, and nice little bits of fish, and cheese, and meat just as tender as possible, and French bread and—I forget the other things.”

“If that is all you have not quite as much of a variety as you had here,” remarked Serena loftily.

The tears came in my eyes. If I had not been such a bad little kitten perhaps Serena would have thought more of me.

“Go kiss her,” whispered my mother in her sweet, rough voice.

That voice always overcomes me. It is hoarse, because she has always a sore throat, caught from being out-of-doors so much in the cold.

I stepped firmly across Jimmy Dory to the place where Serena lay lashing her tail in the sunshine. Then I bent over her, and licked one of her pretty paws.

That pleased her. Serena would like to be a queen of cats. She didn't say a word. She didn't speak of forgiving me for going away, or coming to see me, but she lay and looked at the spot I had licked. That meant that she did really forgive me. Serena knew I loved her, but she always said I made her nervous.

“Come, have a wrestle,” exclaimed Jimmy Dory, and he bit my tail to make me spring after him. We were having a glorious rough and tumble game, when Mrs. Darley and Mary came into the room. My first impulse was to run to Mary, and I did.

She was in an ecstasy. “Why, she likes me, the dear little creature!” she said catching me up. “She wants to go home with me. I was afraid that she would want to stay with her parents.”

I looked back at them. I wanted to stay, and yet I didn't. I had got out into the world, and it was interesting.

My mother and father and Jimmy Dory gazed curiously at little Mary, but they did not get up to speak to her. They cared nothing for her. Mrs. Darley was their mistress, and their eyes rested lovingly on her—but Serena went up and smelt the rich fur on her coat.

“Cats are very comfortable creatures,” said my little mistress, fondling me. “They don't worry us, and they creep up to us when we are in trouble.”

My dear little mistress—how could I run away from her—and to-day, as she was about to leave Mrs. Darley's, I nestled very closely in her arms.

“Good-bye, pussies,” she said politely to the window-seat—“Good-bye, Mrs. Darley—and now, Black-Face, we must get out in the sunshine, or nurse will be impatient.”

I mewed apologetically to my family. My mother's eyes rested on me, followed me down-stairs, were fixed on me through the window as I was taken into the carriage. They are very speaking eyes. She didn't want me to leave her. She was telling me to take care of myself, to be cautious with the dogs, to come soon again to see her. Oh, I read a great deal in those eyes!

Mother cats must suffer a good deal.

After we left Mrs. Darley's this morning, Mary and I had a lovely drive. Then we came home for lunch, and had lessons in the afternoon.

Mary was considerably worried about the cat on the Common. This afternoon there was a sharp wind, and when Mary saw her come out toward dusk, and go skulking from tree to tree as her habit is, she got one of the maids to go out with some food in a basket.

The poor cat ran like the wind, and Mary's face fell. No one can catch her. There would be no use in sending the good agent after her who caught me, for we would not know where to tell him to go.

I made up my mind what I would do when I saw how my little mistress was grieved. I would get that cat for her. So this evening after dinner, when Mary went into the library to have a little chat with her papa, I slipped out in the hall. If I could get out through that big hall door I would be able to run out on the Common. I hid behind a curtain and waited. Soon a ring came at the door bell.

The young man-servant, Anthony, came sauntering through the hall. He opened the door, took a note from a boy, and while he was looking at the address, and the boy was looking at him, I crept by them both.

Neither saw me, and I sprang down the steps, across the pavement, into the street, over the other sidewalk, and down more steps to the Common. Oh, how dark and cold it was in spite of the bright lights sparkling everywhere! How different from the Denvilles' warm house. Was I frightened? No, I was not. Something rose in me—something that was all joy. I loved the darkness, because it was like a big, safe covering over me. Boys could not see me now, nor dogs, and I could see them. I was not a bit afraid, but I was cold, and I would like to finish my work, and get into the house again.

“Meow! meow!” I said tentatively, and I walked toward the pond. The strange pussy was not there. “Meow!” I said again, and I went toward a big elm that was a favorite hiding-place of hers.

She did not answer me, and I had to conceal myself for a minute, until two young men passed.

For a long time I went from tree to tree, but there was not a sound. Then I gave up calling and, crouching on all fours behind a seat, I began to talk cat talk to myself. “I wish I could find that poor creature. I would like to do something for her. If she knew what a good home I could lead her to, she would come to me. Oh! meow! meow! I am so sorry for her.”

I paused for an instant to listen to a distant fire-alarm, then I got up and began to stretch myself. I might as well go home. Just then, I thought I heard a faint sound.

“Meow!” I said encouragingly.

“Meow!” said a very small voice, a very small, thin voice.

“Meow!” I said more loudly. “Don't be afraid. I am only a kitten. Meow! meow!”

She would not come to me, and I began to investigate. There she was under the shadow of the bank, a crouching, gray creature, too terrified to move, and yet all ready to spring away.

“I'm only a kitten,” I said again—“a this spring's kitten. Don't be so frightened. Have boys chased you?”

“The hull world chases me,” she said in a faint voice.

“Well, I won't chase you. Can't you come nearer?”

“Nop.”

“Are you hungry?” I asked, keeping my distance.

“Not very. I had a sparrow yesterday. It was dumpish, and fell out of a tree.”

“My little mistress has been watching you from her window,” I said. “She sent some food out to you to-day, but you ran away.”

“I was scared,” said the cat shiveringly. “I thought the woman wanted to put me in that basket.”

“Suppose she had. She would have carried you to a good home.”

“A man put me in a basket onct, and took me home. Then he tried to murder me, but I hopped out the window,” she said in a dreadful voice.

“Well, no one in our house would try to kill you. I would like to do something for you. Will you follow me home?”

“Oh, no! no!” she said gaspingly. “I ain't got no acquaintance with you.”

I was silent for a few seconds, planning what to do for her. I could not see her very plainly, for she kept herself well in the background, but I could see enough to make me half sick with pity. She was skin and bone, and her eyes were the most terrified things I had ever seen.

“Will you wait here a few minutes?” I said at last. “I know where I can get you a nice chicken bone. I'll run and find it, and come to you as quickly as I can.”

“I never had no chicken bones,” she said faintly.

“Don't move then, and I'll get you one,” I returned, and I sped away.

Thinking it over, I wonder now I had patience—I, who am supposed to be so impatient—to go back to the house, to wait till the door was opened, and then to sneak in, find the bone that I had secreted in a corner of Mary's room, seize it in my mouth, skulk down-stairs, wait for another ring at the bell, and dash out again.

Well, I did it, and I laid the bone down near the cat. Then I went off a little way, and one of the most beautiful sounds I have heard so far in my short life was her hungry teeth crunching that bone. There was a good deal of meat on it, and of course she ate that first, but the bone went too. She put her head first on one side then on the other, till she cracked it all to pieces.

“Did that taste nice?” I asked, when she had finished.

She gratefully licked her lips. “It's the first square meal I ever had.”

“Do you call that square?” I asked in dismay. “Why, it's only a first course. But I can't bring you any more to-night. Will you wait here to-morrow night for me?”

“I don' know,” she said timidly.

“Please come,” I said. “I'll bring you a nice piece of meat, maybe beefsteak.”

Her mouth watered, and I saw I had conquered her.

“Will you come alone?” she asked.

“Yes, stark alone. Now, good night. My young mistress will be anxious, if she misses me.”

She didn't say good night. She hadn't any manners, but what could one expect from such a poor creature—and she didn't talk nicely. She is a common, low-down thing, but is that any reason why she should be left to starve? She is just as good as I am in one way, and thinking over the matter, as I sit dozing here in my big chair, I am glad that I went to see her. I will be sure to go again to-morrow.

Little Mary is coming up-stairs. I just got home in time. Poor Common cat. I wonder how you will sleep?