orning, and although it was October, it was as warm as
a June day.

Mrs. Barnet was in the hands of the French maid, and could not be
disturbed while her hair was being dressed.

Flossie wondered what she could find to play with.

She wished that Saturday had been a schoolday.

Usually she found the baby amusing, but Uncle Harry's little daughter
was out for an airing.

The kitten skurried down the hall and Flossie caught her, and ran off to
the music-room. She managed to clamber up on to the stool with pussy
in her arms, and reached for the music, which she opened.

"Now that's a _very_ nice song, kitty," she said, "but you needn't sing
it; you can just practise the 'comfrement. Now one, two, three, begin!"

She held the kitten's paws, and forced them to press the keys.

"Me-u! Me-u!" squeaked wee pussy.

"You going to sing and play, too? Why, that's fine," said Flossie, "only
you don't get the tune right."

"Me-u! Me-u!" wailed the white kitten.

"Now pussy darling, you're real sweet to _try_, but you don't sing the
tune right; it didn't sound like _that_ when Uncle Harry sang it last
night. We'll sing it together, and maybe you'll learn it. Put your left
paw on _do_, and your right paw on _mi_; now sing."

What a droll duet it was! Franz Abt's beautiful song was never before
thus rendered.

"I love thee, dearest, thee alone,
Love thee, and only thee!"

sang Flossie, while little pussy, regardless of time or sentiment, sang
"me-u! me-_ow_! me-u! _me-u_!"

[Illustration: "Put your left paw on _do_, and your right paw on _mi_;
now sing."]

"Our voices don't _har-mer-lize_, pussy, I know they don't. You'll just
have to practise alone. That's what Mollie Merton's mamma said last
night when Uncle Harry and Aunt Vera sang together. She said: 'Oh, how
beautifully their voices _har-mer-lize_.' Now that's just what our
voices _don't_ do, so I'll put you right on to the keys, and you can
practise the _'comfrement_ alone."

Flossie ran to the window to see if any of her playmates were in
sight, while the kitten, left to amuse herself, walked slowly across the
keyboard, and sat down upon the lower bass notes.

The French maid paused in the doorway.

"Ah, it is the petite beast that the bad music makes. I will the feline
terrible remove, before she more mischief does do."

"Don't take the kitten out, Marie," cried Flossie, "I'm making her
practise her lesson."

"Eh, bien! In this great mansion wher