"Uncle Edward, have you heard who Goliath really did kill?"

"Do you mean the tree that came on you? No one else was hurt, I hope?"
and Sir Edward's tone was a little anxious.

"She was killed dead--quite dead and mangled, nurse said. It was the
poor little kitten, uncle, that I ran out to fetch."

The brown eyes were swimming with tears, and Milly could not understand
the smile that came to Sir Edward's lips.

"Only a kitten. Well, it was sad, I daresay, but there are plenty of
kittens about the place."

"But, uncle, I've been thinking so much about this one. Ford says she
had run away from the stable. I expect she was going to be a prodigal
kitten, perhaps, and now she'll never run away any more. It's so sad
about her, and I think why it is sad is because nobody cares, not even
nurse. She said she would rather it had been the kitten than me. Poor
little kitty, her mother will be missing her so to-night! Do you think,
uncle, the wind or Goliath killed her? I think it was Goliath. I just
looked out of my window on the stairs before I came down. The wind has
stopped now, and the trees seemed to be crying and sobbing together. I'm
sure they were sorry for kitty. I think they were tired out themselves,
too, they have been so knocked about to-day. I wish so much I had been
just in time to save the dear little kitten."

"We will not talk about her any more," said Sir Edward cheerfully. "Have
you seen Tom Maxwell lately?"