“Please come,” I said. “I'll bring you a nice piece of meat, maybe beefsteak.”
Her mouth watered, and I saw I had conquered her.
“Yes, stark alone. Now, good night. My young mistress will be anxious, if she misses me.”
She didn't say good night. She hadn't any manners, but what could one expect from such a poor creature—and she didn't talk nicely. She is a common, low-down thing, but is that any reason why she should be left to starve? She is just as good as I am in one way, and thinking over the matter, as I sit dozing here in my big chair, I am glad that I went to see her. I will be sure to go again to-morrow.
Little Mary is coming up-stairs. I just got home in time. Poor Common cat. I wonder how you will sleep?
For some nights I have been so tired that the instant I jumped up on my opera cloak I went right to sleep. No time for thought, no time for a little cat to review the events of her day, and wonder whether she had done right or wrong, and whether she had made a simpleton of herself, or whether she had been very wise.
However, there is no need for me to indulge in wonderment. I am a foolish, light-hearted, selfish, mischievous kitten. I have always heard that from my birth, from dear Serena, and I know it without her telling me. My mother has always praised me, but I see through her. She is so good that she wants to make me good too, and when I hear my mother praising any one, cat, dog, or human being, it always makes me suspicious of that creature. The less it deserves praise, the more she gives it. However, I must not dwell on my badness. I do not imagine it has a good effect upon me. I will think over the one really kind thing that I believe I have done in the course of my short life. Perhaps I did not do it in the best way—however, I did it, and to my great joy I sit here dozing and dreaming, and occasionally opening my eyes to look at that Common cat, who, at the present moment, is under Mary's bed, sound asleep.
Yes, I got her here, but it was hard work. How care pulls one down. I declare, I have been just worn out with anxiety and secrecy. I hate to do things slyly. Now for days I have had to manœuvre. First to hide some of my food, then to get it out to the cat.