CHAPTER II

It was high noon when he turned toward home. He had forgotten all

about Kittyboy, but when the confident little beastie came rubbing up

against him, purring softly, the doctor smiled, as if a sudden thought

had struck him, and stooping down, he rubbed Kittyboy's head; after

which performance the artful little creature rolled over on his back,

and turned his gold-colored eyes upon the doctor, inviting a frolic;

then up and away he scudded, with arched back and curved tail, the very

embodiment of a witch's familiar.

"You little imp of darkness!" cried the doctor. "Such capers in the

house of a sober bachelor! You'll be occupying my bedroom next and

calling it your own." A prediction which speedily came true, for that

very night Kittyboy slyly crept up behind the doctor, and, hiding

himself, craftily bided his time, and in the dead of night stole forth

and curled himself up on the foot of the bed, waking the doctor in

the morning by licking his hand with a red, rough, little tongue.

And then followed wild, frantic gambols, dancing and prancing over

everything; coquettings with the tassels of a dressing gown; tussles

with a slipper; mock fears of a very innocent reflection in the glass;

delicate tip-toeings about the dressing table, with attempts to pry

into every box and drawer; then one leap into the air and a waltzing

after a little black tail whose existence Kittyboy seemed only that

moment to have discovered. All this so entertained the doctor, that he

lay in bed shaking with laughter at the absurd antics, and went down to

breakfast with Kittyboy on his shoulder.

After this it was evident that Kittyboy considered the second-story

front bedroom as his own. To be sure he generously allowed Dr. Brewster

to share it, to occupy the bed, if he were not in the middle of it;

or the doctor might sit in any comfortable chair for which Kittyboy

had no immediate use; but the lordly little creature took possession

so absolutely that the doctor's sense of humor was greatly tickled by

this overweening complacency and confidence, and he meekly took another

chair when Kittyboy occupied the better one, or, indeed, moved over to

the right side of the bed if Kittyboy preferred the left.

It was the evening of the day which had seen the doctor at the Post

Office. It seemed to him that it had been many more than twenty-four

hours since the sly little cat had followed him indoors, and had

ingratiated himself into the good man's favor. Already the doctor was

making a confidant of this same little waif.

"What would you do about it, you little limb of Satan?" he asked, as he

opened the letter he had so carefully put aside that morning. "Come,

you shall decide. Let us see what sort of oracle you can make. You

started this, anyhow, as I remember. Now get me out of it, if you can."

Kittyboy winked soberly, as the doctor thus addressed him, but looked

very wise, as if he knew much more than he proposed to tell.

The doctor softly stroked the black fur, which was less rough than

it had been the day before. "Shall I go or not?" he asked. "You can

advise, and then, like others in the same position, I'll do as I

choose. Here is the letter." He shook it at the little creature, who

grabbed it in both paws, rolled over with it once or twice, then taking

it in his mouth he jumped down from the table and walked off with his

prize to the chair where a soft felt hat of the doctor's was lying.

Into this jumped Kittyboy, letter and all, and, curling himself up,

looked with a knowing wink at the man who was watching him.

"Nothing could be plainer," laughed the doctor. "Go is the word. Pick

up your hat and its contents, you say. Here we are, take us and go.

Such wisdom! For real out and out witchcraft, commend me to a black

cat. Ah, Kittyboy, it is well you did not live in the time of those

old fellows, my ancestors, Wrastling Brewster and Preserved Fish, and

the rest, or we'd both be strung up for practicing the black arts,

although such names as they had were enough to choke them without

hanging.

"Well, my small wizard, go it is, since your suggestion suits my

inclination; who knows? who knows?" He sat absently stroking the little

cat, who had returned to the table, and it was evident that something

had given him food for deep, and not altogether unpleasant, reflection,

for the evening paper lay untouched, and the open fire seemed to hold

the man's fixed attention. Was it Kittyboy's sorceries that caused

past events to rise as flames from ashes, to add a new warmth to a

half-chilled memory?

[Illustration: "_Into this jumped Kittyboy_"--Page 26]

The next morning it was that Dr. Brewster turned his steps toward a

quiet street in a modest quarter of the city. An open square gave a

pleasant, airy appearance to the neighborhood. The sun was shining

brightly, but the air was frosty, and the doctor stepped along briskly.

His footsteps did not falter until he reached the house, 610 West

Twelfth Street, and then for a moment he paused, taking off his hat and

wiping his brow as if it were a warm day. Immediately after, however,

he mounted the steps with a firm step and gave the bell a vigorous

pull. It was answered by a neat maid, who paused expectantly for the

card, which the doctor did not produce. "Tell Mrs. Temple a friend

wishes to see her," was his message.

He was ushered into a small room, which was warm and cosy. A fire

glowed in a Baltimore heater. There were pretty, tasteful articles

scattered about, which gave the room a cheerful, homelike look. The

doctor picked up a book from the table, put it down again, nervously

took two or three turns up and down the floor, and finally stationed

himself, with his hands behind him, at one of the windows, fixing his

eyes upon the street.

Presently some one entered, and a soft voice said, "You wished to see

me?"

The doctor turned abruptly, and held out his hand to the tall, fair

woman who stood before him. "Elinor," he said,--the color mounted to

the lady's cheek,--"Dr. Brewster," she faltered. "How--where did you

learn of me?"

"At the club," replied the doctor, gravely and truthfully.

"It is truly good to see an old friend," continued Mrs. Temple. "You

know--you have heard."

"I know nothing but that you are here," answered the doctor.

"My husband died two years ago," went on Mrs. Temple. "He was very good

to me, and he idolized our little daughter." Her eyes dropped before

the doctor's earnest gaze, but they had already told that which the

doctor had for so many years longed to know, whether in marrying big,

wealthy, dissipated Captain Temple, Elinor Arsquith had pleased merely

herself, or whether to spare her father's good name she had sacrificed

her girlhood.

He drew in his breath quickly, and for a moment no word was spoken

between them.

"And your little girl?" asked the doctor, breaking the silence.

"She is with me here. I lost two little ones in Texas, and Elinor is

all I have left. I felt that for her sake I must seek a different

climate, and that is why I am here."

At that moment the curtains before the door parted, and a small figure

appeared. A solemn-faced little midget, about six years old, clasping

to her breast a battered doll, stood before them.

"Come in, dear, and speak to the doctor," Mrs. Temple said, glad of an

interruption to a conversation which was becoming embarrassing.

The little one advanced slowly, till she stood by the doctor's side.

"Must I put out my tongue?" she asked.

The doctor smiled. "No, I think I wouldn't. It's pretty cold for even a

tongue to be out to-day."

The child laughed merrily. "I wanted to go and buy mamma a little bunch

of vi'lets, but she said I would freeze my nose off, and I wouldn't

be pretty without any nose, would I?" Then, glancing down at her

dilapidated, noseless doll, she looked a little abashed. "Excuse me,

Lily," she said gravely; "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I love

you just as much as if you had as big a nose as the doctor's. I didn't

have any money in my bank, anyhow," she continued, "and mamma could not

spare any five centses. You know we aren't rich any more. I 'spect the

flowers are frozen up, anyway."

"I'll get the violets for you," said the doctor, without looking at

Mrs. Temple. "I know a nice, warm place where they live, and if you'll

trust me I think I can find some fresh, sweet ones."

Elinor clasped her hands. "You're very nice," she assured him. "And if

you won't give me any nasty medicine, I'll love you very much."

"I promise no nasty medicine," agreed the doctor, and their friendship

was sealed. So well did it proceed that when the doctor took his leave,

an hour later, Elinor hugged him frantically, saying, "Doctor, come

to-morrow. I get so lonely, and so does mamma. I wish you'd come every

day," and the doctor's smile answered the suggestion.

"Mamma," said the child, after the doctor had left them, "is that a

very nice man?"

"Why, darling; yes--of course--yes--he is very nice."

"I fought so," she returned confidently. "Is he very 'spensive?"

"Oh, you mean--wealthy. I think so, enough so, at all events. What

funny questions. Why do you want to know?"

"Just 'cause I like to ask funny questions. Mamma, do you like bread?"

"Why, you midget, you are just asking questions to tease your mudder.

You know I like bread."

Elinor laughed gleefully, and looked down at her doll. "Lily told me a

secret to-day," she said, "and she won't let me tell till Christmas.

It's a very nice one, but I can't tell you, mamma."

"Very well. I will wait till Christmas."

"Don't you want to know it?" the child asked, anxiously.

"Not if you don't want to tell it."

"But I do, only Lily won't let me. Mamma, this morning I was a kitten."

"You were? I didn't discover it."

"I was. I had a red ribbon round my neck, and I was black, and Lily was

Elinor Temple, and she played with me. See where I scratched her. Do

you want me to be a kitten for you, mamma?"

"Not if you scratch, nor if you have to turn black."

That amused Elinor greatly.

"I doesn't have to. I've just make-believe claws. Mamma, are you going

to take me to church on Christmas?"

"Why, of course. Don't you want to go?"

"I didn't last Sunday; it was so long. The man in the white gown said

so much. I fink he was a chatterbox."

"Why, Elinor! what a thing to say about the good rector."

"Well, mamma, it is what you say about me when I talk a long time, and

you love me."

Mrs. Temple smiled. "Then you don't want to go to church on Christmas?"

"Oh, but I do; I like to hear the little boys sing, and I like to see

the green things, but----"

"You get tired sitting so long?"

"Oh, no, mamma; I couldn't get tired; I get too much rested."

"I see. Well, dearie, we will go to the early service, which is not so

long."

"And then come home and have the Santa Claus part of it for dessert;

that will be nice. I wish the doctor would come soon; I want to ask him

somefing."

The doctor did come soon. Indeed, there was scarcely a day after this

which did not see his stalwart form turning into the quiet street, and

the affection between the grave man and the pretty child grew apace, so

that many confidences passed between them.

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Kittyboy's Christmas · 第 2 / 5 章