ains of warm affection, a depth of tenderness never yet
called out, and a warmth and devotion of nature that wanted only an
object upon which to expend themselves.

So she poured out such wealth of love on the poor kitten as only such a
desolate little heart has to spare. She loved the kitten all the more
for the care she was obliged to take of it, and the trouble it gave her.
She kept it, as much as possible, out among the boards, in her favourite
haunts. She found an old hat, in which she placed her hood, to make a
bed for pussy. She carried it a part of her scanty meals; she braved for
it what she would not have done for herself--for almost every day she
abstracted from the kettle, when she returned with the milk for Nan
Grant, enough for pussy's supper, at the risk of being discovered and
punished, the only risk of harm the poor ignorant child knew or thought
of, in connection with the theft; for her ideas of abstract right and
wrong were utterly undeveloped. So she would play with her kitten for
hours among the boards, talk to it, and tell it how much she loved it.
But in very cold days she was puzzled to know how to keep herself warm
out of doors, and the risk of bringing the kitten into the house was
great. She would then hide it in her bosom, and run with it into her
little garret. Once or twice, when she had been off her guard, her
little playful pet had escaped from her, and scampered through the lower
room and passage. Once Nan drove it out with a broom; but there cats and
kittens were not so uncommon as to excite inquiry.

How was it that Gerty had leisure to spend all her time at play? Most
children of the poorer class learn to be useful while they are young.
Nan Grant had no babies; and being a very active woman, with but a poor
opinion of children's services, she never tried to find employment for
Gerty, much better satisfied for her to keep out of her sight; so that,
except her daily errand for the milk, Gerty was always idle--a fruitful
source of unhappiness and discontent.

Nan was a Scotchwoman, not young, and with a temper which, never good,
became worse as she grew older. She had seen life's roughest side, and
had always been a hard-working woman. Her husband was a carpenter, but
she made his house so uncomfortable, that for years he had followed the
sea. She took in washing, and had a few boarders; by which she earned
what might have been an ample support for herself, had it not been for
her son,