find Darkie," repeated Maisie, "you should see him beg. He
does it most beautifully."

"Fancy!" said Philippa, with a slight drawl and a little laugh. "Well,
Blanche doesn't need to _beg_ for anything. She gets all she wants
without that.--Where's Dennis?"

Maisie repeated the story of Tuvvy and the Round Robin, and Philippa
laughed again.

"What odd things you do," she said. "Mother says you're not a bit like
other people."

Maisie had been searching in vain for Darkie in all his usual haunts,
and calling him at intervals, but no kitten appeared; there was only old
Madam curled up in the sun, blinking in lazy comfort.

"I'm afraid I shan't find him," she said, with a disappointed face.
"He's such a cunning cat. He knows we want to teach him things, so he
often hides. Very likely he's watching us now, somewhere quite near.
But I did so want you to see him beg."

"Why do you teach him things?" asked Philippa, "It must be a great
trouble to you, and he doesn't like it either."

"Oh, but it's good for him to learn," said Maisie. "It makes him
obedient and well-behaved.--Don't you teach Blanche anything?"

"Oh dear, no," said Philippa. "She would scratch me if I tried,
directly."

Maisie looked grave. "Do you think Blanche is growing a nice cat?" she
asked presently.

Philippa tossed her head, and made all the feathers on her hat wave.

"She ought to be," she said, "for she has all sorts of advantages.
She's got bells, and ribbons, and a clockwork mouse, but she hasn't a
very nice disposition. She often scratches. Miss Mervyn's quite afraid
of her, and mother would send her away at once if she wasn't mine."

Maisie sighed. "I'm sorry," she said, but in her own mind she felt sure
that the white kitten was not properly managed.

"I wonder," she added aloud, "how the grey kitten will turn out. Aunt
Katharine's going in to Upwell to-morrow, and she's promised to call at
the tinsmith's and ask after it."

Philippa yawned, and did not seem to feel much interest in the grey
kitten.

"How do you like my hat?" she asked, with a sudden liveliness in her
voice. Before Maisie could answer, Aunt Katharine called the children
from the drawing-room window. Mrs Trevor was going away, and just as
they were seated in the carriage Dennis appeared, rather hot, but
glowing with triumph.

"Half of them have signed," he said, waving the Round Robin in the air
as he approached. Philippa leaned back languidly b