CHAPTER SIX.
LOST!
"There!" said Dennis triumphantly, "we've got it right at last."
"There's only one tiny smudge on it," said Maisie, looking anxiouslyover his shoulder at the Round Robin.
It had cost them nearly two days of earnest effort and repeated failure,for although Aunt Katharine had described exactly how it was to be done,she had left them to carry it out entirely by themselves. It sounded soeasy to say: "Take a sheet of cardboard, and draw a large circle on it,leaving room for all the signatures you want. Then write the petitionclearly in the middle, and that is a Round Robin." But it was not soeasy when you began to do it. First the circle was too large, and thenit was too small, then there were mistakes in the spelling, and thenthere were too many blots; but at last, after wasting four sheets ofcardboard, the Round Robin approached perfection. Aunt Katharine camein to see it, and smiled, and said she thought it would do.
"But you've got a good deal before you yet, Dennis," she added. "Do youthink you shall be able to get all the men to sign?"
"Every one of them," said Dennis decidedly. "I shall begin with thebailiff, and end with the pig-man. He can't write his name, but he canput a cross."
"It won't matter which you begin or end with," said Maisie, "becausethere isn't any first and last in the Round Robin."
From this moment all Dennis's energy and interest were spent upongetting the Round Robin signed. He could talk and think of nothingelse, but though Maisie was eager for its success too, it did notentirely take her mind from other things. She often thought, forinstance, of the two kittens in their new homes, and wondered how theywere getting on, and whether Blanche was beginning to be a "comfort" toPhilippa. Darkie was certainly growing handsome and more amusing everyday, but perhaps he could not exactly be considered a "comfort." Madam,his mother, at any rate did not find him one, and was often very vexedwith him, because he would not give up the pranks and follies ofchildhood. She could no longer put up with it patiently, when hepounced upon her tail if she happened to whisk it, or played leap-frogover her back like a small black goblin. On such occasions she wouldspit at him angrily, and box his ears with the whole strength of heroutstretched arm, but Darkie did not care a bit. He must play with someone, and as Peter the dog would not notice him, there was no one leftbut Madam. Dennis and Maisie were quite ready to have a game, but theywere not to be compared to cats for fun and frolic, and besides, theybegan to have some tiresome ideas about training and education. Darkiemust be taught to beg like Peter. Every morning, before he was allowedto taste his breakfast, he was made to go through certain exercises.
"Beg, Darkie, beg," Maisie would say, holding the plate high above hishead; and then Dennis would place him forcibly down on his hind-legs,and lift up his front paws. Darkie was a cunning cat, and he soon foundthat begging was to his advantage, so he learned his lesson quickly, butit was only one of many which followed, and he got very tired of them.
"Darkie can beg," said Maisie, when she next saw Philippa. "How doesBlanche get on?"
Philippa had driven over to Fieldside with her mother one brightafternoon in April, and now she and Maisie were in the garden, Dennis asusual being absent on business connected with the Round Robin. Maisiehad been very pleased to see Philippa when she first arrived, for shewanted to hear about the white kitten, and she looked forward to apleasant talk with her. Before she had been there five minutes,however, it was easy to see that she was not in a nice mood. That wasthe worst of Philippa, Maisie always found. You could never take her upjust at the point you left her; she might be agreeable, and she might bejust the opposite. To-day she had her grown-up manner, and was full oflittle affected airs and graces, and Maisie, glancing at her once ortwice, saw the reason of it. Philippa was wearing a new hat of thelatest fashion, covered with the most beautiful drooping feathers, andshe could not forget it for a moment.
"If I can find Darkie," repeated Maisie, "you should see him beg. Hedoes it most beautifully."
"Fancy!" said Philippa, with a slight drawl and a little laugh. "Well,Blanche doesn't need to _beg_ for anything. She gets all she wantswithout that.--Where's Dennis?"
Maisie repeated the story of Tuvvy and the Round Robin, and Philippalaughed again.
"What odd things you do," she said. "Mother says you're not a bit likeother people."
Maisie had been searching in vain for Darkie in all his usual haunts,and calling him at intervals, but no kitten appeared; there was only oldMadam curled up in the sun, blinking in lazy comfort.
"I'm afraid I shan't find him," she said, with a disappointed face."He's such a cunning cat. He knows we want to teach him things, so heoften hides. Very likely he's watching us now, somewhere quite near.But I did so want you to see him beg."
"Why do you teach him things?" asked Philippa, "It must be a greattrouble to you, and he doesn't like it either."
"Oh, but it's good for him to learn," said Maisie. "It makes himobedient and well-behaved.--Don't you teach Blanche anything?"
"Oh dear, no," said Philippa. "She would scratch me if I tried,directly."
Maisie looked grave. "Do you think Blanche is growing a nice cat?" sheasked presently.
Philippa tossed her head, and made all the feathers on her hat wave.
"She ought to be," she said, "for she has all sorts of advantages.She's got bells, and ribbons, and a clockwork mouse, but she hasn't avery nice disposition. She often scratches. Miss Mervyn's quite afraidof her, and mother would send her away at once if she wasn't mine."
Maisie sighed. "I'm sorry," she said, but in her own mind she felt surethat the white kitten was not properly managed.
"I wonder," she added aloud, "how the grey kitten will turn out. AuntKatharine's going in to Upwell to-morrow, and she's promised to call atthe tinsmith's and ask after it."
Philippa yawned, and did not seem to feel much interest in the greykitten.
"How do you like my hat?" she asked, with a sudden liveliness in hervoice. Before Maisie could answer, Aunt Katharine called the childrenfrom the drawing-room window. Mrs Trevor was going away, and just asthey were seated in the carriage Dennis appeared, rather hot, butglowing with triumph.
"Half of them have signed," he said, waving the Round Robin in the airas he approached. Philippa leaned back languidly beside her mother, andgave a little affected wave of the hand to her cousins as she droveaway.
"What's the matter with Philippa?" asked Dennis. "She's got somethingnew on, I suppose."
Without waiting for an answer, he proceeded to tell all he had done thatafternoon. No one had refused to sign, although some of the men had agood deal to say before they did so, and others looked as though theydid not understand the Round Robin very clearly.
"But I think it will be all right," finished Dennis; "and if I get themall, Mr Solace can't refuse to let Tuvvy stop, can he?"
Maisie agreed rather absently, for she was still thinking over her talkwith Philippa. The white kitten's home did not seem to have turned outvery well so far, and she had expected it to be the best. Perhaps thegrey kitten's humble abode would be happier, after all, than HaughtonPark.
"Madam," she said, turning to the old cat, who had chosen a sunny spoton the window ledge, and was taking a nap, "I've got some news for you.Aunt Katharine's going to call at the tinsmith's--that's where oldSally's Eliza lives, you know--and ask after your grey kitten."
"_She_ doesn't care," said Dennis, laughing contemptuously, but Maisieknew Madam was pleased, for she tucked her front paws under her andpurred. She would no doubt be anxious to hear about her kitten, and thenext afternoon, when the time came to expect Aunt Katharine back fromUpwell, Maisie stood waiting in the hall with the old cat tucked underher arm. Madam should hear the news directly it came. It seemed a longtime in coming, and even when at last Aunt Katharine drove up to thedoor, she had so many parcels to look after, and so much to say aboutthem, that Maisie could not ask any questions. She followed her auntin
to the sitting-room, with Madam still clutched tightly to her side.
"What is it, Maisie dear?" said Miss Chester. "Oh, the kitten, to besure. I went to see it, but I'm sorry to tell you that they're afraidit has run away."
At this sad news Madam struggled so violently that Maisie was obliged tolet her slip down to the floor. Run away! That was the last thingMaisie had thought of.
"Oh Aunt Katharine," she cried, "how did it run away? Why did they letit?"
But there was not much to be told about this. It was supposed that thekitten had run through the shop out into the street, and lost its way.At any rate, it had disappeared, and the tinsmith's wife was very sorry.
"Then," said Maisie, "it's lost! She might have taken more care of it.I wish we hadn't given it to her!"
Poor little grey kitten! Homeless and helpless in the wide world! Itwas so sad to think of it, that Maisie could not help crying, in spiteof Aunt Katharine's attempts to comfort her.
"After all," she sobbed out, "it hasn't got a home at all, and we didtake such trouble to find it one."
"Well, darling," said her aunt, "we must hope it has got a good homestill. Very likely some kind person found it, and took care of it."
"Do you really think so?" said Maisie, rubbing her eyes and looking upwith a gleam of hope; "but perhaps," she added sorrowfully, "an unkindperson met it."
Aunt Katharine smiled and kissed her little niece.
"Unfortunately, there are unkind people in the world, dear Maisie," shesaid; "but I don't think there are many who would hurt a little harmlesskitten. So we must take all the comfort we can, and perhaps some day weshall find it again."
Maisie did her best to look on the bright side of the misfortune, butshe could not help thinking of all the dangers the grey kitten waslikely to meet. There were so many dogs in Upwell, dogs like Snip andSnap who delighted in chasing cats. There were carts and carriages too,and many things which the kitten was far too young to understand. Itsignorance of the world would lead it into all sorts of perils, and therewas little chance that it would ever be heard of again. She tried tobreak the bad news as gently as possible to Madam, who seemed to listenwith indifference, and presently fell off to sleep, as though there wereno such thing as lost kittens in the world. Dennis also did not showvery much concern; but he was just now so busy with other matters thatperhaps this was not surprising.