when your Mamma gets home, likely as not. It's only half-past four now. Better let me give her some of this. I don't like to see her suffer."
"No," Jessie turned back and sat down beside the little cushion. "I'll treat her myself," she said, firmly. "Please go out and leave me alone with her, Katie. Thank you ever so much for fixing the tea, though."
Katie went out, without a word, and Jessie bowed her head upon her hands and tried to think how to begin; but the kitten's moans grew more and more piteous and heart-rending, so that the little girl had to put her fingers into her ears to shut out the mournful cries.
"Poor little thing! Poor little thing!" she kept saying to herself, dismally. "She's awfully sick and I don't know how to go to work to help her. I can't remember a thing, and I just expect she'll die before Mamma gets home. Oh, dear!" and she removed her fingers from her ears to feel for her handkerchief, just as a particularly piteous mew came from the
