Natalie led the way to the door just beyond Beth’s room. She opened it, revealing a large chamber, furnished in Tuna mahogany, hung with old rose and dark reds, carpeted with plain velvet carpet in a reddish brown, a curious, splendid room which made a becoming setting for the slender dark girl it sheltered, as Beth dimly perceived without understanding it. Next to this room, connected with it, was a beautiful green room, furnished in bird’s-eye maple, a green carpet rug on its floor, green and white empire brocade on its walls, green curtains, and a stand of waving ferns in its northern window. This was Alys’s room, and Beth exclaimed: “Isn’t this a dear room! It looks like ‘By cool Siloam’s shady rill.’” Natalie and Alys stared; they did not know how large a part in Beth’s education hymns had played. But Alys was pleased; she gave Beth the first smile that she had accorded her. The smile deepened as Beth darted forward, espying on a cushion a plump tiger kitten, who raised a short, cheerful little face that looked smiling, and a pair of large eyes, as Beth buried her fingers in fur that was as fine and soft as chinchilla. “What a darling!” she cried fervently. “She’s a perfect angel!” cried Alys thawing fast. “She talks all the time, answers each time we speak to her, and she knows as well as you would what I say when I ask her where her ball is. Poppy, where’s your ball?” she added to prove her words. The kitten stretched and jumped down. For an instant she poised on her forefeet in descending, and Beth laughed. “We’re afraid there is something wrong about her; she can’t quite control her hind legs,” Natalie explained the movement. “Poppity-pippity-wum!” she added pettingly. “M-m-m-m!” cooed the kitten answering, as Alys had foretold that she would do. Poppy brought out a worsted ball for which she had been hunting under the chairs and triumphantly laid it at Alys’s feet. “Didn’t I tell you she was an angel?” cried Alys. “We call her Poppy because she pops up so queerly in her back legs. Oh, Poppity-pippity-wum, you blessed Poppy-pip!” She snatched the kitten to her breast and buried kisses in her soft fur. A maid came in and Natalie spoke to her in French; awestruck Beth knew that it was French because there were French market gardeners near her home. “My bath is ready, so you must excuse me, Beth,” said Natalie. “Alys must go to get ready for hers, too. We always swim a little after riding. Will you stay here with Poppy? Then you can sit with us while we have our hair done, and we’ll eat chocolates and get acquainted.” “I’d like to go into my room to write a note to Aunt Rebecca,” said Beth shyly. “Why, of course. You won’t get another chance to-night,” agreed Natalie. “Run along, little Coz.” Beth ran. She closed her door and wrote rapidly with a pencil on a pad which she found waiting for her, a pad not like her school pads, but one of the finest paper.