window a spinning-wheel was placed, and before this spinning-wheel sat,
on a white chair, a white-haired lady.

She was spinning busily. She did not look up as the children came in.
She seemed quite absorbed in her work. So the children stood and gazed
at her, and the cats stood quietly in front, the right-hand one before
Hugh, the left-hand one before Jeanne, not seeming, of course, the least
surprised. Whether I should call the white-haired lady an "old" lady or
not, I really do not know. No doubt she was old, as we count old, but
yet, except for her hair, she did not look so. She was very small, and
she was dressed entirely in white, and her hands were the prettiest
little things you ever saw. But as she did not look up, Hugh and Jeanne
could not at first judge of her face. They stood staring at her for some
minutes without speaking. At last, as they were not allowed to be
surprised, and indeed felt afraid of being reproached with bad manners
by the cats if they made any remarks at all, it began, especially for
Jeanne, to grow rather stupid.

She gave Hugh a little tug.

"Won't you speak to her?" she whispered, very, _very_ softly.

Instantly both cats lifted their right paws.

"You see," replied Hugh, looking at Jeanne reproachfully, "they're
getting angry."

On this the cats wheeled right round and looked at the children.

"I don't care," said Jeanne, working herself up. "I don't care. It's
not our fault. They said she was waiting for us, and they made us come
in."

"'_She_ is the cat,' so I've been told," said a soft voice suddenly.
"And 'don't care;' something was once spun about 'don't care,' I think."

Immediately the two cats threw themselves on the ground, apparently in
an agony of grief.

"_She_ the cat," they cried. "Oh, what presumption! And who said 'don't
care'? Oh dear! oh dear! who would have thought of such a thing?"

The lady lifted her head, and looked at the cats and the children. There
was a curious expression on her face, as if she had just awakened. Her
eyes were very soft blue, softer and dreamier than Hugh's, and her
mouth, even while it smiled, had a rather sad look. But the look of her
whole face was very--I can't find a very good word for it. It seemed to
ask you questions, and yet to know more about you than you did yourself.
It was impossible not to keep looking at her once you had begun.

"Hush, cats," were the next words she said. "Don't be silly; it's nearly
as bad as be