Black, White and Gray by Amy Walton (best novels to read to improve english TXT) 📕

even the kitchen cat would be well treated in her house.

The vicarage reached, however, and the old question put, it turned out that Maisie had been right. Miss Hurst, who was a meek-faced little lady with very smooth hair and a kind smile, was afraid she could not have two cats. It might upset Mopsy. And Mopsy was such an old friend, that it would not be fair to make him unhappy for the sake of a new one. She was afraid she must say no. So the grey kitten was again refused, and when the children set out on their farther journey, Maisie was quite in low spirits. Nobody wanted the grey kitten.

"We've got two chances left," said Dennis, trying to console her. "And if _I_ were the kitten, I'd much rather live with Dr Price than at the vicarage."

"But you're not a kitten--you're a boy," said Maisie despairingly, "and that makes a great deal of difference."

"Dr Price is splendid, _I_ think," continued Dennis. "Just see how he can ride, and how he cures people, and how kind he is to them about their bills."

"Why do you suppose Aunt Katharine has Dr Smith over from Upwell to see us when we're ill," asked Maisie, "when Dr Price is quite close, and so clever?"

"Well," said Dennis gravely, "you mustn't say anything, but I _believe_--that is, I've heard one or two of them say in the village-- that he sometimes--is--like Tuvvy, you know."

"Oh!" said Maisie, with her eyes very wide open.

"And that, you see," went on Dennis instructively, "is very bad for a doctor, because he may mix up the wrong things together and kill people. But for all that, they say they'd rather have him, even when he's a little `nervous,' than any one else, because he's so clever and so kind. Why, he sat up all night with Widow Hutchins's son, who had sergestion of the lungs, and then he wouldn't take a penny because she's so poor."

"What a pity he's ever like Tuvvy," said Maisie.

"And then, you see," continued Dennis, who loved to repeat the gossip he picked up in the village, "he's so dreadfully fond of horses and hunting, that whenever there's a meet near, he _can't help_ going, and if he goes, he _has_ to follow, and then he can't leave off. So sometimes, when there is an accident, or anything, and he's wanted here very badly, he's quite the other side of the county!"

Maisie nodded her head gravely as she heard of those little weaknesses; and just then, reaching the foot of the hill which led down from the vicarage, they came into the village again, and there was Dr Price himself standing at his gate, facing them.

He was a broad, strongly-built man of about five-and-forty, with a clean-shaven square face, and very fair hair and eyebrows. These looked curiously light on his red-brown skin, which was of an even tint all over, as though used to encounter wind and rough weather. He was so constantly on horseback, that it seemed strange to see him standing on his own legs, and more so to see him walk, which, indeed, he did with an odd movement of the knees, as though it were some difficult exercise. He wore riding-boots and breeches, and had a short pipe in his mouth. At his heels were his two white terriers, Snip and Snap.

As Maisie's eye fell on the dogs, she stopped short, and caught hold of Dennis by the arm.

"Oh!" she exclaimed; "I forgot."

"Forgot what?" he answered, with a pull forward. "Don't be stupid. Come on."

"Why, Snip and Snap," said Maisie eagerly, still holding back. "It wouldn't be a good home. They'd chase it. Don't let's speak to Dr Price about it. It wouldn't be any use."

"We must speak to him now," said Dennis, going steadily on, and dragging Maisie with him. "Perhaps he'll know of some one, if he can't have it himself. _You_ ask," he added hurriedly, as they came close to the doctor.

Dr Price took off his hat, and smiled down very kindly at Maisie, as she put her question. She spoke hesitatingly, for the sight of Snip and Snap had reminded her of their habits. On most days their swift white forms were to be seen scouring over the country in search of rabbits, or other small defenceless creatures. Dr Price on horseback, and his terriers on foot, were well known for many miles round Fieldside, and Maisie could not help thinking them most unsuitable companions for the grey kitten.

This seemed to strike the doctor himself.

"Well now, that's very kind of you, Miss Maisie," he said, looking thoughtfully at the bowl of his pipe; "but the fact is I'm not much of a hand at cats myself. And then--there are the dogs, you see--"

"Would they chase it?" asked Maisie, glancing at them.

"Why, they're thoroughbred, you know," said the doctor apologetically.

"What a pity!" said Maisie, who thought it must be some very bad quality.

"Well," said the doctor, with a short laugh, "I like them all the better for it myself; but I'm afraid the kitten wouldn't stand much chance, and that's a fact."

"Oh, I wouldn't let it come here for _anything_," said Maisie with a shiver. "Why do you keep such cruel dogs?"

"As to that, you know, Miss Maisie," said the doctor, "it isn't crueller to hunt a cat than a fox."

"But that's cruel too," said Maisie, "very cruel indeed."

Here Dennis felt it time to interfere.

"Don't be stupid, Maisie," he said; "you're only a girl. You don't understand. Of course, people must hunt."

So here was another failure, for not only was Dr Price's home out of the question, but he could not think of any one who wanted a kitten. Everybody had cats; they seemed to be all over the place. If it was a puppy now. He cast an admiring glance at Snip and Snap, who stood in sprightly attitudes, one on each side of the little rough dog Peter, their eager bodies quivering, their short tails wagging, ready for the first signs of warfare. But Peter knew better. He was old and he was wise. He did not like Snip and Snap, but he was not going to be provoked into a fight in which he was sure to be worsted. So he held himself stiffly upright, uttered a low growl of contempt, and took no further notice of them.

"And now," said Maisie, when they had said good-bye to Dr Price, and were on their way again, with Peter trotting in front, "there's really only one more chance left."

There were two ways to old Sally's cottage, and Maisie knew Dennis would be sure to choose the one which led across the rick-yard of the Manor Farm; indeed, she liked this best herself except for one reason, and that was the risk of meeting the turkey-cock. It was useless for Dennis to say, "He won't gobble if you're not frightened of him." She always _was_ frightened, and he always _did_ gobble, and turned purple with rage, and swelled out all his feathers, and shook a loose scarlet thing which hung down from his neck. They met him to-day, marching at the head of his ladylike wives, who followed him delicately, picking their way and lifting their feet high. Their small heads and quietly elegant toilets made them look rather like Aunt Trevor, Maisie thought.

"Now, walk slowly," said Dennis, and she did try to control her fears; but as usual, the moment the turkey-cock began to gobble, she began to run, and did not stop until she was safe on the other side of the gate. From this refuge she watched Dennis, admiring him greatly as he came slowly on, shaking his stick in the turkey-cock's face, and was quite ready to agree with him when he called her a coward.

"Only I can't help it," she added.

"But you ought to," was Dennis's reply. "It's silly, even for a girl, to be afraid of a turkey-cock."

Old Sally's thatched cottage was so near the farm-buildings that it almost looked like one of them, but a narrow lane really ran between, and it stood on its own little plot of ground. At its door there was an immense horse-chestnut, which she could "mind," she said, helping to plant when she was a girl. She had held it straight in the hole while old Mr Solace, the grandfather of this young Master Andrew, had filled in the earth. She was most sorry to think she had done it now, for this ungrateful tree so shaded her window that it made her cottage dark, and besides this, choked up her well, by dropping its great leaves into it in the autumn.

Old Sally could "mind" so many things on account of her age, that she was a most amusing and instructive person to visit. She had worked for the Solaces as child, girl, and woman, and now she was pensioned off, and allowed to live in her cottage rent-free with her one remaining unmarried daughter, Anne, of whom she always spoke as her "good child." Anne was over seventy years old, and weakly with bad health and rheumatism, so that there was nothing very youthful about her. Indeed, when they sat side by side, both in sunbonnets which they wore indoors and out, it was difficult to say which was the elder of the two old women.

Old Sally, in spite of a long life of hard work, was still straight and wiry, and her brown old face, wrinkled as a withered nut, was lively and shrewd. There was only one point in which Anne had the advantage, and that was in hearing, for her mother was very deaf, and obliged to use a trumpet. This she was always shy of producing, and to-day she allowed Anne to scream into her ear what the children said for some time; but at last, seeing a very earnest expression on Maisie's face, she took the trumpet out with a bashful smile and presented the end to her.

"Do you know any one who wants a kitten?" shouted Maisie.

Old Sally laid down the trumpet and turned to Anne, who as usual sat at her elbow in her lilac sun-bonnet and coarse apron.

"Warn't our Eliza talking of cats last time she was over?" she asked.

Anne nodded.

"Who's Eliza?" inquired Dennis.

"Why, sure you know our Eliza, Master Dennis," said old Sally. "Her as married the tinsmith, and went to live in Upwell town. Eliza's my youngest darter but two. Don't you mind her wedding?"

"Lor, mother!" said Anne, "Master Dennis and Miss Maisie warn't living at Fieldside then. It's a good twelve years ago.--Mother forgets things like that," she added aside to the children, "though she's a wonderful memory for ancient things."

"Would it be a good home, do you think?" said Maisie to Dennis in a low tone.

"Is your daughter Eliza a kind woman?" shouted Dennis down the trumpet.

Old Sally dropped her trumpet and raised both her withered hands on high.

"Kind! Master Dennis. Eliza's downright silly about dumb animals. She always was from a gal."

"We don't want her to be silly," said