"I call her Zee for short. Look at that now!" And Mrs. McQuilken
straightened out the tail which was coiled around Zee's back.

"Oh, how beautifully long!" cried Edith.

"Long? I should say so! There was a cat-show at Los Angeles last fall,
and one cat took a prize for a tail not so long as this by
three-quarters of an inch! And Zee only six months old!"

The kitty, wide awake by this time, was holding high revel with a ball
of yarn which the tortoise-shell cat had purloined from her mistress's
basket.

"Dear thing! Oh, isn't she sweet?" said Edith, dropping on her knees
before the graceful creature.

Mrs. McQuilken enjoyed seeing the child go off into small raptures;
Edith was fast winning her heart.

"Does your mother like cats?" she suddenly inquired.

"Not particularly," replied Edith, clapping her hands, as Zee with a
quick dash bore away the ball out of the very paws of the coon cat.
"Mamma thinks cats are cold-hearted," said she, hugging Zee to her
bosom. "She says they don't love anybody."

"I deny it!" exclaimed Mrs. McQuilken, indignantly. "Tell your mother to
make a study of cats and she'll know better."

Edith looked rather frightened. "Yes'm, I'll tell her."