They were painting the jackdaws' house, and were that moment as perfectly happy as two children could be. Aunt Katharine had given full permission, two immense white aprons, and a liberal supply of paint, which last they were using freely, not only on the jackdaws' house, but on their own persons. Maisie in particular, who _would_ take too much on her brush at a time, had splashed and sprinkled herself all over, even to the tip of her small round nose; so that she looked like a funny little clown squatting on the grass. Even the dog Peter, hunting rats under the haystack near, his agitated hind-legs only just visible, bore a scarlet patch of paint on one toe. "Well!" exclaimed Philippa, when she had got close to them without being seen, "you are making a mess!" "Why, it's Philippa!" exclaimed Maisie, throwing down her brush, and scrambling up from the ground; "but we mustn't go near you," she added, stopping short, "or you'll get all over paint." "Isn't it jolly?" said Dennis. "Come round here and look at the bit I'm doing." "No, thank you," said Philippa primly; "I haven't come to stay. Miss Mervyn's waiting in the pony-carriage. I've only come to say," with a pause, "that I've found your grey kitten." "So have we," said Dennis coolly; "at least we think we know where it is." Philippa's face fell. "Where?" she asked. "We don't _really_ know," said Maisie hastily, "only Dr Price saw a grey kitten at Tuvvy's house in Upwell, and Aunt Katharine says I may go to-morrow and see if it's ours." "And I don't believe you'll know whether it is or not," said Dennis. Philippa turned away sulkily. She was thoroughly disappointed to have her news received in this way. "Oh well, then," she said, "you don't want to hear what I know about it, and I am sorry I came round all this way to tell you. Good-bye." "Oh, stop! stop!" cried Maisie. "Wait for me. I want to hear very much; I'll go with you to the gate. Do stop a minute." She struggled frantically as she spoke with the string of her apron, which was tied securely round her neck, and her voice was so pleading, that Philippa was softened. She was still cross with Dennis, who painted away, and did not care a bit; but it was difficult to be angry with Maisie, and when the apron was at last torn off, the two little girls ran across the field together towards the house. Philippa's story turned out to be so very satisfactory and interesting. It seemed to clear away all doubt as to the whereabouts of the grey kitten. Maisie's eager questions and exclamations of pleasure were more than enough to satisfy her and make her feel quite good-tempered again. "Did it seem happy?" inquired Maisie, as they drew near the gate. "Do you think it's got a good home?" "Becky said," replied Philippa, "that it did not get much to eat sometimes, and it's a very ugly little house they live in; but she's very fond of it, and it's fond of her too."