HEIDI
without any one knowing a word about it; and then to go wandering about till this hour; I never heard of such behavior before.”
"Miau!” came the answer back.
This was too much for the lady’s temper; with raised voice she exclaimed, “You dare, Adelaide, after your bad behavior, to answer me as if it were a joke?”
“I did not—” began Heidi—“Miau! miau!”
Sebastian almost dropped his dish and rushed out of the room.
“That will do,” Fräulein Rottenmeier tried to say, but her voice was almost stifled with anger. “Get up and leave the room.”
Heidi stood up frightened, and again made an attempt to explain. “I really did not—” “Miau! miau! miau!”
“But, Heidi,” now put in Clara, “when you see that it makes Fräulein Rottenmeier angry, why do you keep on saying miau?”
“It isn’t I, it’s the kittens,” Heidi was at last given time to say.
“How! what! kittens!” shrieked Fräulein Rottenmeier. “Sebastian! Tinette! Find the horrid little things! take them away!” And she rose and fled into the study and locked the door, so as to make sure that she was safe from the kittens, which to her were the most horrible things in creation.
Sebastian was obliged to wait a few minutes outside the door to get over his laughter before he went into the room again. He had, while serving Heidi, caught sight of a little kitten’s head peeping out of her pocket, and guessing the scene that
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