ky's only answer was to kiss the kitten fervently and shake her head.

Dan took hold of his head with both hands, and thought hard for a
minute. Then he looked up and said, "There's two things, but you
mustn't build on 'em." Becky's eyes showed a faint gleam of hope.
"First," said Dan, holding up one finger, "it may not be it. There's
more nor one grey kitten lost in Upwell. And second," holding up two,
"if it is hers, she may let you keep it. You see she had given it away
once."

How wise Dan was! Becky began to feel a little better.

"You mustn't build on 'em," said Dan, as he bent down to unlace his
boots; "and if you have to give it up, you must think how pleased
they'll be to have it, and do it cheerful."

There are few things easier than to tell others what is right to do, and
few things harder than to do right one's self in some cases. Perhaps
Dan did not understand all that the loss of the kitten would mean to
Becky, when he spoke of giving it up "cheerful." He was fond of his
sister, and sorry for her; but he had many things to enjoy in his active
hard-working life, and it was natural he should sometimes forget how
hard it must be to lie all day long in one dull room, to be often in
pain, and to have nothing but a grey kitten to cheer and comfort one.
It did not seem such a mighty matter to him to give it up, but to Becky
it would be a sacrifice of her one joy and pleasure. If it must go, it
must; but as to giving it up "cheerful," that she could never, never do.
She loved it far too well. All that evening, and before she went to
sleep at night, she could not hinder her mind from dwelling on the two
chances Dan had mentioned. Oh, if one of them should turn out to be
true! In the middle of the night, she woke with a start from a dream in
which the kitten had been taken from her. She put out her hand to feel
for it, and when her fingers touched the soft furry form curled up
outside her bed, she could not help crying half with relief and half to
think that the time might come when she should feel for it, and it would
not be there.

Now all this sad trouble might have been spared, if Philippa had been a
little more thoughtful. She was not an unkind little girl, but she was
so entirely unused to considering other people's feelings, that it did
not occur to her to imagine the effect of her words on Becky, or to say,
"Of course Maisie will let you keep the kitten." That would have
altered everythin