The night after my first interview with her, all went well. I secured a lovely piece of Porterhouse steak. I carried it down-stairs, I hid with it behind the curtain. There were a good many rings at the bell that night, and I had no trouble in getting out, and no trouble in getting in. The Common cat was in her place behind the bench with her eyes shining like hungry stars.
She tore at the food, and I watched her with my own mouth watering in sympathy. When she had finished, she licked her lips and washed her face, and muttered enjoyably, “That's the stuff!”
It gave me a warm feeling round my heart to see her so satisfied, and bidding her to be in the same place the next night I ran home.
The next night I had a dreadful time, a horrible time. It was raining cats and dogs, as the saying is, only I never saw them. There were very few rings at the bell, but at last one came after I had been crouching for half an hour under the thick curtain before the door of the reception-room.
As I slipped out the front door carrying a tea biscuit in my mouth, which was the only thing I had been able to hide that day, I could hear my dear young mistress calling me to come to bed. That was enough to make me nervous, and then I kept dropping the biscuit, and it got soggy in the rain, and by the time I got to the poor cat, I was, to tell the truth, just a little bit out of temper.
“There, you see,” I said, almost throwing the biscuit at her, “I haven't anything nice for you. Whereas if you would come in the house, and throw yourself on the mercy of my young mistress, I assure you that she would find a good home for you.”
“Oh, I dassen't,” said the poor cat in a terrified way.
I silently watched her eat the biscuit, then I shook the rain drops off myself, and started for the house.
Alas! the door was shut, and kept shut. I crouched close up to it, and mewed as loudly as I could, for, to my grief, I could hear Mary and the servants inside calling, “Pussy! Pussy!”
They did this at intervals for an hour or two.
Then I heard Mr. Denville's deep voice by the hall door. “Tell the child to go to bed. Her cat is coiled up somewhere asleep, and does not want to be disturbed. She will appear in the morning.”