and taking its food.
Secretly, Maisie thought it rather like Philippa, for its temper was
somewhat peevish, and it often mewed in a dissatisfied manner for
nothing at all; but she kept this fancy to herself, for she knew that
Dennis would only call her silly if she mentioned it.

As for the grey kitten, it was the smallest and weakest of the three,
the most easily imposed upon, and the most amiable. When the saucer of
milk was put down, the others would thrust their heads greedily into it,
and push the grey kitten aside, so that it could scarcely get any.
Maisie was obliged to keep a close watch at such times, to see that it
had its share, and to correct the conduct of the other two. It was the
same thing in their gambols with their mother, or with a cork at the end
of a string. The grey kitten seemed to be considered as a mere sport
and joke for the other two, who tossed and tumbled it about as if it
were nothing: even Madam did not take its part, and often boxed its ears
for nothing but awkwardness.

All this, however, did not sour its temper in the least, and after the
worst slight or roughest usage it was quite ready to purr and be
pleased. Maisie thought this very nice of it, and she was sure it was
anxious to do well, if it only knew how. It would allow her, with very
few struggles, to dress it in a doll's nightgown and cap, and put it to
sleep in a cradle; which neither of the others would submit to for a
moment. By degrees she became very fond of it, and the more she took
its part and defended it from ill-treatment, the more her affection
increased. It was therefore distressing to remember, as the days went
on, that though the white kitten had a home to look forward to, there
was yet no such prospect for the grey one.

"It's getting dreadfully near the time," she said one morning to Dennis,
who was trying to teach the black kitten to jump through his hands;
"only ten days more, and we haven't got a good home for the grey kitten
yet."

"It's such a common, mean thing," said Dennis, casting a scornful glance
at it. "No one could want to have it."

"It's very affectionate, though," said Maisie, "and it purrs more than
any of them. I believe it might grow pretty when it's older."

"Not it," said Dennis. "Why, there are lots of cats like it in the
village now. Just long, lean, striped things. I don't believe you'd
know it apart from them when it's grown up.--Oh, look, Maisie, look! He
jumped, he r