But he couldn't ever get such a good wheelwright as Tuvvy again, could
he?" said Dennis eagerly. "Tuvvy can do so many things, and he's so
clever and quick."

"Oh, he's _clever_ enough, and he's _quick_ enough, is Tuvvy," agreed
old Sally: "'tain't that; but he can't keep steady--that's where it is.
He'll go on right enough for a bit, and then he'll have a reg'lar
break-out. It's cruel hard on his wife and children, so it is."

"Why _does_ he do it?" said Dennis mournfully.

Old Sally gave a sort of low chuckle.

"Lor, Master Dennis, the men are made like that. They can't help it."

Dennis usually took all old Sally said for granted, considering that her
knowledge of men and things must be very great, but he hesitated a
little at this sweeping remark.

"They're not _all_ like that," he said; "there's Mr Hurst, and Mr
Solace, and a whole lot more. Do you think Mr Solace will turn Tuvvy
away this time?"

But as to this, neither old Sally nor Anne could give any idea at all.
Mr Solace was a kind man for certain, but then again he was a just man
too, and a man of his word. Anne had heard him say with her own ears
that the next time Tuvvy broke out, he would get the sack. But there
was no telling.

Dennis left the cottage with a weight on his mind which nothing could
lift. One of his greatest pleasures would be gone if there were no
Tuvvy in the barn for the future. A new wheelwright would most likely
be a complete stranger, and not the same thing at all. Why would he be
so silly as to break out? Could nothing be done to stop him?

Maisie, too, was rather sober and silent on the way back, for though a
home for the grey kitten had now been found, she felt that she should
miss it very much, and could not bear the idea of parting with it. It
had such coaxing ways, and was so weak and helpless, that it seemed to
need her more than the others, and to want her help and affection.

She went to pay a last visit to the kittens before she went to bed that
night, and found them all curled up in a soft little heap in their
basket. As usual, the grey kitten was lying underneath the others, who
were sprawling over it, quite regardless of its comfort.

Maisie lifted it out, held it up to her face, and kissed it gently.

"Dear little kitty," she whispered, "you've got a home at last. You're
to go and catch mice for old Sally's Eliza, and I do hope you'll be
happy."

CHAPTER FOUR.

PHILIPPA'S BIRTHDAY.

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