t Josephine back now, to-day?"

"I never thought of them," he said woefully. "We were so happy,
Mum--Godfrey, Betty and I. Oh, why are people so horrid?"

"Why are people so selfish?" she asked sadly. "I'm surprised at Betty; I
should have thought that she, at least, would have understood that the
cat must stay away a little longer."

"It wasn't Betty's fault," said Timmy hastily. He waited a moment, then
added cunningly, "It was really Mr. Trotman's fault; he said Josephine
ought to come home."

But his mother went on a little wildly: "It isn't an easy job, taking
over another woman's children--and doing the very best you can for them!
To-day, Timmy, you've made me feel as if I was sorry that I ever did it."

"Sorry that you married Daddy?" asked Timmy in an awe-struck voice.

Janet Tosswill nodded.

"Sorry that I was ever born?" cried Timmy. He flung his skinny arms round
her bent neck.

She looked up and smiled wanly. "No, Timmy, I shall never be able to say
that, however naughty you may be."

But Timmy was not to be let off yet.

"What happened to-day has hurt me very, very much," she went on. "It will
be a long time before I shall feel on the old, happy terms with Jack
again. Without knowing it, Timmy, you've pierced your mother's heart."

But even as she uttered these, to Timmy, dreadful words, Janet Tosswill
got up, and dried her eyes. "Now then, we must go and see about Josephine
being shut up in some place of safety, where she and her kittens will not
offend the eyes of Jack and Rosamund. How about the old stable?"

She was her own calm, satirical, determined self again. But Timmy felt,
perhaps for the first time in his life, deeply conscious of sin. His
mother's phrase made him feel very uneasy. Had he really pierced her
heart--could a mother's heart be permanently injured by a wicked child?

It was a very mournful, dejected, anxious boy who walked into the kitchen
behind Janet Tosswill.

Timmy had a very vivid imagination, and during the drive back he had
amused himself by visualising the scene when he would place Josephine and
her kittens in their own delightful, roomy basket in the scullery. It
would be such fun, too, introducing Flick to the two kittens! At Betty's
suggestion, Flick had been shut out from the scullery after Josephine's
kittens were born, and that though the dog and the cat got on extremely
well together. In fact, Flick was the only creature in the world with
whom Josephine,