She was tasting of the sweets of concealment; she
had taken up the line of mystery. "She would be enchanted to be able
to prove to herself that she is persecuted," said the Doctor; and
when at last he questioned her, he was sure she would contrive to
extract from his words a pretext for this belief.
"Be so good as to let me know what is going on in the house," he said
to her, in a tone which, under the circumstances, he himself deemed
genial.
"Going on, Austin?" Mrs. Penniman exclaimed. "Why, I am sure I don't
know! I believe that last night the old grey cat had kittens!"
"At her age?" said the Doctor. "The idea is startling--almost
shocking. Be so good as to see that they are all drowned. But what
else has happened?"
"Ah, the dear little kittens!" cried Mrs. Penniman. "I wouldn't have
them drowned for the world!"
Her brother puffed his cigar a few moments in silence. "Your
sympathy with kittens, Lavinia," he presently resumed, "arises from a
feline element in your own character."
"Cats are very graceful, and very clean," said Mrs. Penniman,
smiling.
"And very stealthy. You are the embodiment both of grace and of
neatness; but you are wanting in frankness."
"You certainly are not, dear brother."
"I don't pretend to be graceful, though I try to be neat. Why
haven't you let me know that Mr. Morris Townsend is coming to the
house four times a week?"
Mrs.
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