up, Clementina."

"Oh, she doesn't, Miss Milray. You mustn't think so. You don't know how
good she is to me."

"Does she ever remind you of it?"

Clementina's eyes fell. "She isn't like herself when she doesn't feel
well."

"I knew it!" Miss Milray triumphed. "I always knew that she was a
dreadful old tabby. I wish you were safely out of her clutches. Come and
live with me, my dear, when Mrs. Lander gets tired of you. But she'll
never get tired of you. You're just the kind of helpless mouse that such
an old tabby would make her natural prey. But she sha'n't, even if
another sort of cat has to get you! I'm sorry you couldn't come last
night. Your little Russian was here, and went away early and very
bitterly because you didn't come. He seemed to think there was nobody,
and said so, in everything but words."

"Oh!" said Clementina. "Don't you think he's very nice, Miss Milray?"

"He's very mystical, or else so very simple that he seems so. I hope you
can make him out."

Don't you think he's very much in ea'nest?

"Oh, as the grave, or the asylum. I shouldn't like him to be in earnest
about me, if I were you."