Maisie agreed rather absently, for she was still thinking over her talk with Philippa. The white kitten's home did not seem to have turned out very well so far, and she had expected it to be the best. Perhaps the grey kitten's humble abode would be happier, after all, than Haughton Park. "Madam," she said, turning to the old cat, who had chosen a sunny spot on the window ledge, and was taking a nap, "I've got some news for you. Aunt Katharine's going to call at the tinsmith's--that's where old Sally's Eliza lives, you know--and ask after your grey kitten." "_She_ doesn't care," said Dennis, laughing contemptuously, but Maisie knew Madam was pleased, for she tucked her front paws under her and purred. She would no doubt be anxious to hear about her kitten, and the next afternoon, when the time came to expect Aunt Katharine back from Upwell, Maisie stood waiting in the hall with the old cat tucked under her arm. Madam should hear the news directly it came. It seemed a long time in coming, and even when at last Aunt Katharine drove up to the door, she had so many parcels to look after, and so much to say about them, that Maisie could not ask any questions. She followed her aunt into the sitting-room, with Madam still clutched tightly to her side. "What is it, Maisie dear?" said Miss Chester. "Oh, the kitten, to be sure. I went to see it, but I'm sorry to tell you that they're afraid it has run away." At this sad news Madam struggled so violently that Maisie was obliged to let her slip down to the floor. Run away! That was the last thing Maisie had thought of. "Oh Aunt Katharine," she cried, "how did it run away? Why did they let it?" But there was not much to be told about this. It was supposed that the kitten had run through the shop out into the street, and lost its way. At any rate, it had disappeared, and the tinsmith's wife was very sorry. "Then," said Maisie, "it's lost! She might have taken more care of it. I wish we hadn't given it to her!" Poor little grey kitten! Homeless and helpless in the wide world! It was so sad to think of it, that Maisie could not help crying, in spite of Aunt Katharine's attempts to comfort her. "After all," she sobbed out, "it hasn't got a home at all, and we did take such trouble to find it one." "Well, darling," said her aunt, "we must hope it has got a good home still. Very likely some kind person found it, and took care of it." "Do you really think so?" said Maisie, rubbing her eyes and looking up with a gleam of hope; "but perhaps," she added sorrowfully, "an unkind person met it." Aunt Katharine smiled and kissed her little niece. "Unfortunately, there are unkind people in the world, dear Maisie," she said; "but I don't think there are many who would hurt a little harmless kitten. So we must take all the comfort we can, and perhaps some day we shall find it again."