Gentle Julia | Page 8

see her, and
Who came to see her yesterday, and Who was here the day before, and
Who's coming to-morrow, and Who's she going to marry! You really
ought to grow up and help me out, because I'm getting tired of it. No. It

wasn't Noble Dill but Mr. Newland Sanders that sent me Fifi and
Mimi--and I want you to keep away from 'em."
"Why?" asked Florence.
"Because they're very rare cats, and you aren't ordinarily a very careful
sort of person, Florence, if you don't mind my saying so. Besides, if I
let you go near them, the next thing Herbert would be over here
mussing around, and he can't go near anything without ruining it! It's
just in him; he can't help it."
Florence looked thoughtful for a brief moment; then she asked: "Did
Newland Sanders send 'em with the names already to them?"
"No," said Julia, emphasizing the patience of her tone somewhat. "I
named them after they got here. Mr. Sanders hasn't seen them yet. He
had them shipped to me. He's coming this evening. Anything more
to-day, Florence?"
"Well, I was thinking," said Florence. "What do you think grandpa'll
think about these cats?"
"I don't believe there'll be any more outrages," Julia returned, and her
dark eyes showed a moment's animation. "I told him at breakfast that
the Reign of Terror was ended, and he and everybody else had to keep
away from Fifi and Mimi. Is that about all, Florence?"
"You let Kitty Silver go near 'em, though. She says she's fixing to wash
'em."
Julia smiled faintly. "I thought she would! I had to go so far as to tell
her that as long as I'm housekeeper in my father's house she'd do what I
say or find some other place. She behaved outrageously and pretended
to believe the natural colour of Fifi and Mimi is gray!"
"I expect," said Florence, after pondering seriously for a little while--"I
expect it would take quite some time to dry them."

"No doubt. But I'd rather you didn't assist. I'd rather you weren't even
around looking on, Florence."
A shade fell upon her niece's face at this. "Why, Aunt Julia, I couldn't
do any harm to Fifi and Mimi just lookin' at 'em, could I?"
Julia laughed. "That's the trouble; you never do 'just look' at anything
you're interested in, and, if you don't mind my saying so, you've got
rather a record, dear! Now, don't you care: you can find lots of other
pleasant things to do at home--or over at Herbert's, or Aunt Fanny's.
You run along now and----"
"Well----" Florence said, moving as if to depart.
"You might as well go out by the front door, child," Julia suggested,
with a little watchful urgency. "You come over some day when Fifi and
Mimi have got used to the place, and you can look at them all you want
to."
"Well, I just----"
But as Florence seemed disposed still to linger, her aunt's manner
became more severe, and she half rose from her reclining position.
"No, I really mean it! Fifi and Mimi are royal-bred Persian cats with a
wonderful pedigree, and I don't know how much trouble and expense it
cost Mr. Sanders to get them for me. They're entirely different from
ordinary cats; they're very fine and queer, and if anything happens to
them, after all the trouble papa's made over other presents I've had, I'll
go straight to a sanitarium! No, Florence, you keep away from the
kitchen to-day, and I'd like to hear the front door as you go out."
"Well," said Florence; "I do wish if these cats are as fine as all that, it
was Noble Dill that gave 'em to you. I'd like these cats lots better if he
gave 'em to you, wouldn't you?"
"No, I wouldn't."

"Well----" Florence said again, and departed.
Twenty is an unsuspicious age, except when it fears that its dignity or
grace may be threatened from without; and it might have been a "bad
sign" in revelation of Julia Atwater's character if she had failed to
accept the muffled metallic clash of the front door's closing as a token
that her niece had taken a complete departure for home. A
supplemental confirmation came a moment later, fainter but no less
conclusive: the distant slamming of the front gate; and it made a clear
picture of an obedient Florence on her homeward way. Peace came
upon Julia: she read in her book, while at times she dropped a languid,
graceful arm, and, with the pretty hand at the slimmer end of it, groped
in a dark shelter beneath her couch to make a selection, merely by her
well-experienced sense of touch, from a frilled white box that lay in
concealment there. Then, bringing forth