ventured to call upon her. In her own domain she brooked no intrusion. If over the garden wall two little ears were raised, two little eyes peered furtively; if a rustle in the boughs, a trembling of the ivy leaves awakened her suspicion, she sprang at the stranger like a young Fury, her fur bristling to the point of her tail. It was impossible to hold her back, and presently we who listened would hear the sound of scuffling, a fall, and lamentable cries."
A wayward, spoiled, capricious beauty was Moumoutte Blanche, loving her master after the fashion of her race, steadfastly but without docility, and extending some portion of her careless regard to other members of the family. For five years she reigned without a rival. For five years M. Loti came and went, as the fortunes of war called him to sea or permitted his return; and ever she was the first to welcome him under the roof she deemed her own. Then came a day when, three thousand miles from France, fate flung across his path the strange and bizarre little creature known to us as Moumoutte Chinoise, and he made swift surrender of his affections.
"Men were deceivers ever;
One foot in sea, and one on shore,
To one cat constant never."
The new favourite—like so many favourites—was meanly born, poor and wretched. She was
