one of her rushes to the table, set down the butter-plate she was
carrying, and said "There!" as though she had forgotten something. She
stooped--it was perfectly amazing how spry she was--and pulled out from
under the stove a half-grown kitten, very sleepy, yawning and
stretching, and blinking its eyes. "There, Betsy!" said Aunt Abigail,
putting the little yellow and white ball into the child's lap. "There is
one of old Whitey's kittens that didn't get given away last summer, and
she pesters the life out of me. I've got so much to do. When I heard you
were coming, I thought maybe you would take care of her for me. If you
want to, enough to bother to feed her and all, you can have her for your
own."

Elizabeth Ann bent her thin face over the warm, furry, friendly little
animal. She could not speak. She had always wanted a kitten, but Aunt
Frances and Aunt Harriet and Grace had always been sure that cats
brought diphtheria and tonsilitis and all sorts of dreadful diseases to
delicate little girls. She was afraid to move for fear the little thing
would jump down and run away, but as she bent cautiously toward it the
necktie of her middy blouse fell forward and the kitten in the middle of
a yawn struck swiftly at it with a soft paw. Then, still too sleepy to
play, it turned its head and began to lick Elizabeth Ann's hand with a
rough little tongue. Perhaps you can imagine how thrilled the little
girl was at this!

She held her hand perfectly still until the kitten stopped and began
suddenly washing its own face, and then she put her hands under it and
very awkwardly lifted it up, burying her face in the soft fur. The
kitten yawned again, and from the pink-lined mouth came a fresh, milky
breath. "Oh!" said Elizabeth Ann under her breath. "Oh, you DARLING!"
The kitten looked at her with bored, speculative eyes.