an to make a few
inquiries.

"Where does that cat live?" she asked.

"In the kitchen, to be sure," said Nurse; "and the cellar, and
coal-hole, and such like. Alonger the rats and mice--and the beadles,"
she added, as an after-thought.

"The beadles!" repeated Ruth doubtfully. "_What_ beadles?"

"Why, the _black_ beadles, to be sure," replied Nurse cheerfully.

Ruth was silent. It seemed dismal company for the kitchen cat. Then
she said:

"Are there many of them?"

"Swarms!" said Nurse, breaking off her thread with a snap. "The
kitchen's black with 'em at night."

What a dreadful picture!

"Who feeds the cat?" asked Ruth again.

"Oh, I don't suppose nobody _feeds_ it," answered Nurse. "It lives on
what it ketches every now and then."

No wonder it looked thin! Poor kitchen cat! How very miserable and
lonely it must be with no one to take care of it, and how dreadful for
it to have such nasty things to eat! And the supply even of these must
be short sometimes, Ruth went on to consider. What did it do when it
could find no more mice or rats? Of the beetles she could not bear even
to think. As she turned these things seriously over in her mind she
began to wish she could do something to alter them, to make the cat's
life more comfortable and pleasant. If she could have it to _live_ with
her in the nursery for instance, she could give it some of her own bread
and milk, and part of her own dinner; then it would get fatter and
perhaps prettier too. She would tie a ribbon round its neck, and it
should sleep in a basket lined with red flannel, and never be scolded or
chased about or hungry any more. All these pictures were suddenly
destroyed by Nurse's voice:

"But I hope you'll not encourage it up here, Miss Ruth, for I couldn't
abide it, and I'm sure your Aunt Clarkson wouldn't approve of it
neither. I've had a horror of cats myself from a gal. They're that
stealthy and treacherous, you never know where they mayn't be hiding, or
when they won't spring out at you. If ever I catch it up here I shall
bannock it down again."

There was evidently no sympathy to be looked for from Nurse Smith; but
Ruth was used to keeping her thoughts and plans to herself, and did not
miss it much. As she could not talk about it, however, she thought of
her new acquaintance all the more; it was indeed seldom out of her mind,
and while she seemed to be quietly amusing herself in her usual way, she
was occupied wit