child who, perishing of neglect, would leave in that miserable abode no more trace of its feeble existence than she had done.
"At last one small paw was lifted. Oh! so delicately, so discreetly; and, after a long anxious look, Moumoutte, believing the time had now come for venturing all things, took heart of grace, and leaped upon my knee.
"There she curled herself, but with subdued tact and reserve, seeming to make her little limbs as light as possible, a mere feather-weight,—and never taking her eyes from my face. She stayed a long while, inconveniencing me greatly; but I lacked the courage to put her down, as I might have done unhesitatingly, had she been pretty and plump and gay. Nervously aware of my least movement, she watched me with intentness; not as though fearing I would do her harm,—she was far too intelligent to believe me capable of such a thing,—but as though to ask, 'Is it possible that I do not weary or offend you?' After a time her expression softened from anxiety to cajolery, and her eyes, lifted to mine, said with charming distinctness: 'On this Autumn evening, so dreary to the soul of a cat, since we two are isolated, and lost in the midst of dangers I do not understand, let us bestow upon each other a little of that mysterious something which sweetens misery and softens death, which is called affection,
