I WAS awakened early next morning by the clatter of a heavy wagon on
the road in front of the house. Stealing to the window in order not to
awaken Eve, I was just in time to catch sight of a familiar,
blue-shirted figure in the driver’s seat. Michael! What was he doing in
this part of town so early in the morning?
When I went downstairs I found the explanation. Eve was still asleep
and, pleased to have got the start of her for once, I resolved to have
breakfast on the table by the time she came down. I unlocked the
kitchen door and went out to bring in the milk which is left in a pail
every morning. Beside the pail I found a paste-board box. As I stooped
to pick it up I saw there were holes pierced in the top. And when I
lifted it—it mewed!
A cat! I pulled off the lid. No, a kitten—a plump gray one with
china-blue eyes and a white spot in its forehead. The mew changed to a
noisy purr as I lifted it.
“What are you doing?” Eve, looking very nice in a fresh blue linen
dress, was standing in the doorway. In my absorption I had forgotten
all about breakfast. Then Eve saw the kitten. “Oh, the darling! Where
did you find it, Sandy?”
I pointed to the box and told her about Michael. “I suppose the idea
is,” I said, “that one cat is as good as another. But I doubt very much
if Aunt Cal will even give it house room!”
“Well, it was nice of him to think of it anyway!” Eve returned,
cuddling the kitten. “I wonder if it’s hungry?”
Aunt Cal returned at ten o’clock. Eve was just taking a loaf of
gingerbread from the oven when I heard the car. Miss Rose Blossom was
at the wheel, there was no mistaking her broad figure. She was beaming
at Aunt Cal as she handed down her bag.
“She’s coming!” I whispered, tiptoeing back into the kitchen. “What
shall we do with Daisy June?” I glanced a little wildly toward Adam’s
cushion by the stove where the kitten slept.
Before Eve could even answer, a firm step sounded outside. Aunt Cal
stood in the doorway. “Well,” she inquired, “how have you been getting
on?”
I stood in front of the stove. “Splendid——” I began and then, fearing
I sounded too enthusiastic, I changed hastily to “All right.”
“How is your friend?” Eve asked, inserting a knife around the
gingerbread.
“A little better. Her sister came over from Millport this morning, so I
felt that I could leave. Mercy, child, I didn’t know you could bake!”
“Well, of course, it isn’t as good as yours,” Eve began modestly.
Aunt Cal picked up her bag and started for the stairs. It was this
moment that Daisy June took to wake from her nap. With a sinking heart,
I felt her between my ankles. Aunt Cal stopped dead in the middle of
the room. “Where,” she inquired in a very stuffy voice, “did that come
from? And where is Adam?”