the cat curiously through his
eye-glass.

"You wouldn't like a white Persian kitten better for a pet--or a nice
little dog, now?" he asked doubtfully.

"Oh, _please_ not," said Ruth with a shocked expression on her face. "I
shouldn't love it half so well, and I'm sure the kitchen cat wouldn't
like it."

That was a wonderful evening. Everything seemed as suddenly changed as
if a fairy had touched them with her wand. Not only was the kitchen cat
actually there in the nursery, drinking milk and eating toast, but there
was a still stranger alteration. This father was quite different to the
one she had known in the dining-room downstairs, who was always reading
and had no time to talk. His very face had altered, for instead of
looking grave and faraway it was full of smiles and interest. And how
well he understood about the kitchen cat! When her bed-time came he
seemed quite sorry to go away, and his last words were:

"Remember, Nurse, Miss Ruth is to have the cat here whenever she likes
and as long as she likes."

It was all so strange that Ruth woke up the next morning with a feeling
that she had had a pleasant dream. The kitchen cat and the new father
would both vanish with daylight; they were "fancies", as Nurse called
them, and not real things at all. But as the days passed and she grew
strong enough to go downstairs as usual, it was delightful to find that
this was not the case. The new father was there still. The cat was
allowed to make a third in the party, and soon learned to take its place
with dignity and composure. But though thus honoured, it no longer
received all Ruth's confidences. She had found a better friend. Her
difficulties, her questions, her news were all saved up for the evening
to tell her father. It was the best bit in the whole day.

On one of these occasions they were all three sitting happily together,
and Ruth had just put a new brass collar which her father had bought
round the cat's neck.

"I don't want to go to Summerford," she said suddenly. "I'd much rather
stay here with you."

"And the cat," added Mr Lorimer as he kissed her. "Well, you must come
back soon and take care of us both, you know."

"You'll be kind to it when I'm gone, won't you?" said Ruth. "Because,
you know, I don't think the servants _understand_ cats. They're rather
sharp to it."

"It shall have dinner with me every night," said Mr Lorimer.

In this way the kitchen cat was raised from a lo