u, my dear, there's no cat here," she answered. "There's nobody
been here but me and Mrs. Clarkson."

At last there came a day when she woke up from a long sleep and found
that the pain in her head was gone, and that the things in the room
which had been taking all manner of queer shapes looked all right again.

"And how do you feel, Miss Ruth, my dear?" asked Nurse, who sat sewing
by the bedside.

"I'm quite well, thank you," said Ruth. "Why am I in bed in the middle
of the day?"

"Well, you haven't been just quite well, you know," said Nurse.

"Haven't I?" said Ruth. She considered this for some time, and when
Nurse came to her with some beef-tea in her hand, she asked:

"Have I been in bed more than a day?"

"You've been in bed a week," said Nurse. "But you'll get along finely
now, and be up and about again in no time."

Ruth drank her beef-tea and thought it over. Suddenly she dropped her
spoon into the cup. The kitchen cat! How it must have missed her if she
had been in bed a week. Unable to bear the idea in silence, she sat up
in bed with a flushed face and asked eagerly:

"Have you seen the cat?"

Nurse instantly rose with a concerned expression, and patted her
soothingly on the shoulder.

"There now, my dear, we won't have any more fancies about cats and such.
You drink your beef-tea up and I'll tell you something pretty."

Ruth took up her spoon again. It was of no use to talk to Nurse about
it, but it was dreadful to think how disappointed the cat must have
been evening after evening. Meanwhile Nurse went on in a coaxing tone:

"If so be as you make haste and get well, you're to go alonger me and
stay with your Aunt Clarkson in the country. There now!"

Ruth received the news calmly. It did not seem a very pleasant prospect,
or even a very real one to her.

"There'll be little boys and girls to play with," pursued Nurse, trying
to heighten the picture; "and flowers--and birds and such--and medders,
and a garding, and all manner."

But nothing could rouse Ruth to more than a very languid interest in
these delights. Her thoughts were all with her little friend downstairs;
and she felt certain that it had often been hungry, and no doubt thought
very badly of her for her neglect. If she could only see it and explain
that it had not been her fault!

The next day Aunt Clarkson herself came. She always had a great deal on
her mind when she came up to town, and liked to get through her shopping
in