Anne was walking with her now, gathering roses for the house. The garden

was like a room shut in by the clipped yew walls, and open to the sky.

The sunshine poured into it; the flagged walks were pale with heat.

Anne's cat, Nicky, was there, the black Persian that Jerrold had given

her last birthday. He sat in the middle of the path, on his haunches,

his forelegs straight and stiff, planted together. His face had a look

of sweet and solemn meditation.

"Oh Nicky, oh you darling!" she said.

When she stroked him he got up, arching his back and carrying his tail

in a flourishing curve, like one side of a lyre; he rubbed against her

ankles. A white butterfly flickered among the blue larkspurs; when Nicky

saw it he danced on his hind legs, clapping his forepaws as he tried to

catch it. But the butterfly was too quick for him. Anne picked him up

and he flattened himself against her breast, butting under her chin with

his smooth round head in his loving way.

And as Adeline wouldn't listen to her Anne talked to the cat.

"Clever little thing, he sees everything, all the butterflies and the

dicky-birds and the daddy-long-legs. Don't you, my pretty one?"

"What's the good of talking to the cat?" said Adeline. "He doesn't

understand a word you say."

"He doesn't understand the words, he says, but he feels the feeling ...

He was the most beautiful of all the pussies, he was, he was."

"Nonsense. You're throwing yourself away on that absurd animal, for all

the affection you'll get out of him."

"I shall get out just what I put in. He expects to be talked to."

"So do I."

"I've been trying to talk to you all afternoon and you won't listen. And

you don't know how you can hurt Nicky's feelings. He's miserable if I

don't tell him he's a beautiful pussy the minute he comes into my room.

He creeps away under the washstand and broods. We take these darling

things and give them little souls and hearts, and we've no business to

hurt them. And they've such a tiny time to live, too... Look at him,

sitting up to be carried, like a child."

"Oh wait, my dear, till you _have_ a child. You ridiculous baby."

"Oh come, Jerrold's every bit as gone on him."

"You're a ridiculous pair," said Adeline.

"If Nicky purred round _your_ legs, you'd love him, too," said Anne.




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