als on the fire, and took her seat--not beside Maria, but in
a goodly armchair, which she drew forward from its recess.

"Now," said she, "we only want a cat to be purring on the rug to make us
a complete winter picture. The kettle will be coming soon to sing on
the hob: and that will do nearly as well. But, Maria, I wonder _you_
have no cat. We have set up a cat. I think I will send you a kitten,
some day, as a token of neighbourly affection."

"Thank you. Do you know, I was positively assured lately that I had a
cat? I said all I could in proof that I had none; but Mrs Tucker
persisted in her inquiries after its health, notwithstanding."

"What did she mean?"

"She said she saw a kitten run into the passage, and that it never came
out again: so that it followed of course that it must be here still.
One day, when I was in school, she came over to satisfy herself; and
true enough, there had been a kitten. The poor thing jumped from the
passage window into the yard, and went to see what they were about at
the forge. A hot horse-shoe fell upon its back, and it mewed so
dolefully that the people drowned it. So there you have the story of my
cat, as it was told to me."

"Thank you, it is a good thing to know. But what does Mrs Grey say to
your setting up a cat?"

"When she heard Mrs Tucker's first inquiries, she took them for an
imputation, and was vexed accordingly. `Miss Young!' said she, `You
must be mistaken, Mrs Tucker. Miss Young cannot afford to keep a
kitten!'"

"Oh, for shame!" said Margaret, laughing. "But what is the annual
expense of a kitten--can you tell us? I am afraid we never considered
that."

"Why, there is the breast of a fowl, once a year or so, when your cook
forgets to shut the larder-door behind her. Cats never take the
drumsticks when there is a breast, you are aware. You know best how Mr
Hope looks, when the drumsticks and side bones come to table, with an
empty space in the middle of the dish where the breast ought to have
been."

"I will tell you, the first time it happens." And Margaret sank into an
absent fit, brought on by the bare suggestion of discontent at home.
Hester had made her uncomfortable, the last thing before she left the
house, by speaking sharply of Maria, without any fresh provocation.
Undisciplined still by what had happened so lately, she had wished Maria
Young a hundred miles off. Margaret meditated and sighed. It was some
time before Maria spok