For the rest of Philippa's visit she and Maisie were left a good deal to each other's society, for Dennis was now entirely occupied with the building of the jackdaws' house under Tuvvy's advice and direction. One afternoon the two little girls were sitting together in the play-room, threading beads on horsehair to make a collar for Darkie. "What made Dennis want to help Tuvvy?" asked Philippa suddenly. "Was it after he had carved that stick for him?" "Why, no; of course not," said Maisie. "Tuvvy did that because he was so much obliged to Dennis." "Well, then," repeated Philippa, "why _did_ Dennis take all that trouble for him?" "He liked him," said Maisie; "and when you like people, you want to please them, I suppose." "I don't think I do," said Philippa slowly; "I want them to please me." "But that isn't fair," said Maisie. "You ought to please them if they please you; even Darkie knows that. Aunt Katharine says," she added, "that you ought to try to help people and be kind to them, whether they're kind to you or not." Philippa shrugged her shoulders and seemed to have had enough of that subject, but although she was silent she thought it over in her mind. Maisie, meanwhile, was occupied with a very usual matter--the grey kitten's fate. She was never tired of wondering where it was, who had found it, or whether it was alive at all, and as she had no news of it, the subject was likely to last a long time. "We shall never be able to see now which of the three is the greatest comfort," she said aloud, "because I don't suppose we shall ever see the grey kitten again." "Darkie's the best," said Philippa; "he's so clever, and so handsome too." "Don't you like Blanche?" asked Maisie, dropping her work and looking earnestly at her cousin. "Sometimes," said Philippa airily, "but she isn't a comfort. Miss Mervyn says she's a plague, and mother would send her away directly if she wasn't mine. If she was as nice and well-behaved as Darkie, we should all love her." "But," said Maisie, "Darkie is naughty by nature. He really is. We've had a great deal of trouble to make him obedient and good. He was a much worse little kitten than Blanche ever was." "Well," said Philippa, "I'm quite sure no one could have had more advantages than Blanche. She's had everything she wants, and been allowed to do just as she likes." "Then," said Maisie solemnly, "I expect you've spoilt her, and that's why she's so troublesome and naughty." "Perhaps I have and perhaps I haven't," said Philippa recklessly; "I'm tired of threading beads. Let's go out and see how Dennis is getting on." On the whole, in spite of some sulky moods and one or two fits of temper, Philippa's visit passed off extremely well, and Maisie was quite sorry when the time came to say good-bye. She and Dennis watched the carriage drive away, and waved their hands to her as long as it was in sight.