Another half-hour passed by, a long one to Bess, who momentarily feared a fresh outbreak. But quiet seemed to be restored, and she was just beginning to breathe freely again, when once more she heard the quiet footfall. Turning, she gazed towards the doorway in an agony of apprehension. What now? The portière trembled, slightly parted, and through the opening was pushed the old house cat, a great black animal of staid demeanor and unimpeachable dignity. But at this moment the unfortunate creature’s dignity was not so manifest as it might have been. Each one of her four paws was wrapped in a neat casing of heavy paper, while securely lashed to her glossy tail was the mate to the rose that Bess was wearing.
As if overpowered by her unwonted decorations, the poor animal stood motionless for a moment, and then attempted to walk across the room. However, this usually simple operation was attended with unforeseen difficulties. Pussy’s toes, in their smooth envelopes, slipped this way and that as her weight was thrown first on one foot, then on the other; and as she lifted each foot, she gave it a hasty but energetic shake
