A pussy! That sounded pleasant, and I waited eagerly for his return. I
waited a long time, as it seemed, and I had grown tired, and was looking
for daisies on the grass, when I heard his step and the tap of his
favourite holly-stick on the gravel. What a funny boy he was to call
that "something nice"!

There he stood, his eyes and mouth all one smile, and held out at arm's
length by the ears a dead rabbit. My look and exclamation of horror made
him grave at once.

[Illustration: POOR DEAD PUSSY!]

"Oh, the poor little rabbit!" I cried. "Has Uncle Hugh killed him
quite dead?"

"Yes, yes, he quite dead! De Capitaine's gun kill him quite, de small
dog pick him up. Petite mademoiselle not frighten, he quite dead!"

Ah, that was just the reason of my fright! Away I ran to Jane, and hid
my face in her gown; and a very vigorous scolding did she give the
French boy when she found what he had done.

Poor fellow! he was very much disconcerted, and did not know what to
say. Two hours after he came back, and finding me alone just going for
a drive, he said softly--

"Little puss all alive now, run away in de voods. Petite mademoiselle,
come see?"

What did he mean? The rabbit could not be "quite dead" at one time, and