day
in his arms, and Harriet's giving me my kitty through the window. I
hope I thanked them, but am not sure. That was the last I saw of them;
but I carried the marks of Harriet's "try-cake" while my frock lasted,
for soap took out the color.

The "driver" treated me with marked politeness, and when we reached
Willowbrook Corner, put me into the yellow stage, with as much care as
if I had been a china tea-set.

There was a shout when I got home, for all the family were at the
gate.

CHAPTER XII.

BETTER THAN KITTENS.

Yes, they seemed just as glad to see me as if I was the Queen of
England, and had been gone all the days of my life. Father,
especially, looked really overjoyed.

"How they must have missed me!" thought I, springing out of the coach
and falling headlong over old Towser. "O, please catch that kitten."

Ned seized the empty basket and whirled it over his head.

"Who cares for such trash? We've got something in the house that's
better than sixteen kittens."

"Rabbits?"

"Come and see," said 'Ria, giving me one hand, while she stroked
Silvertoes with the other.

"O, I don't believe it's anything. Is it wax beads? You haven't asked
where I came from, nor whose house I staid to. There was a woman with
gold beads, and he called her Harret, and--"

"Yes, I knew they'd take good care of you," said cousin Lydia.

"And where d'you s'pose I found my kitty?" But no one seemed to hear.
I had expected to be pelted with questions as to my eating, drinking,
and sleeping, and to be pitied for the late distress of my mind. But
no one showed the slightest curiosity; they all seemed in a great
hurry to get into the house.

I stopped talking, and walked along with all the dignity of an
offended pea-chicken. There might or might not be something worth
going to see; but I was resolved to keep perfectly cool. Up stairs?
Well, up stairs then, or up in the attic, or out on the roof,--it made
no difference to me. I could keep from asking questions as long as
they could, if not longer.

O, mother's room, was it? Well, I'd been wondering all the while where
mother was, only I wouldn't ask. Dear me, was she sick? "So glad to
see little Madge," she said, kissing me over and over again. "And what
a hard time I had had."

There, _she_ knew how I'd been suffering, and was just going to ask me
some questions, when that troublesome Ned whisked me right up in his
arms, and whirled me round towards the fireplace.