So sad, weary, and discouraged, I returned home, only to learn there were no tidings of the missing one.
"I give her up now," said my weeping landlady; "I shall never see her again. She is lost for ever; and those two poor pretty little creatures----"
"By the way," I said, "I wanted to speak to you about them. If she never does return, what do you purpose to do with them?"
"Keep them!" said the generous and impulsive little woman.
"I wanted to say, if she does not return, I will, if you like, relieve you of one of them. My sister, who lives with me, and keeps my house, is a very kind, tender-hearted woman. There are no children in the house, and she would, I am sure, be very kind to the poor little thing. What do you say?"
"No, no!" sobbed the poor woman; "I cannot part with them. I am a poor woman, it is true, but not too poor to give them a home; and while I have a bit and a sup for myself they shall have one too. Their poor mother left them here, and if she ever does return she shall find them here. And if she never returns, then----"
_And she never did return_, and no tidings of her fate ever reached us.
If she was enticed away by artful blandishments, or kidnapped by cruel violence, we knew not. But I honestly believe the latter. Either way, it was her fatal beauty that led her to destruction; for, as I have said before, she was the most perfect creature, the most beautiful Maltese cat, that I ever beheld in my life! I am sure she never deserted her two pretty little kittens of her own accord. And if--poor dumb thing--she was stolen and killed for her beautiful fur, still I say, as I said at first, she was "more sinned against than sinning."--C. H. GRATTAN, in _t.i.t-Bits_.