After a few weeks Miss Eleanor went down to see about Topsy. She had a tale of woe to listen to. They said: "Topsy searched the house after you left, and at night she caterwauled in the hall in the most fearful manner, and paid not the least attention to us, when we tried to coax her. She refused all food, preferring to steal all that she wanted. She at last took to the cellar, and would not come up. We put food and drink for her every day, and it was gone, so we supposed she took it." They said the night before she had made such a racket that it seemed as if there were a dozen cats with her. They had that day decided to write, asking what could be done with her. When they opened the cellar door, and called her, no answer came; but the moment Miss Eleanor went to the door, and said, "Topsy," she flew up the stairs like lightning, and into Miss Eleanor's arms, just like a child. She held her so tight she could hardly remove her claws from her shoulder. "This decides it. I shall have to take her," Miss Eleanor said; "and indeed I could not face Milly without her, now that we know how unhappy she has been." They loaned her a shawl, and in it she wrapped Topsy, who followed every movement with her yellow eyes, though she kept as quiet as a lamb. Her trust was perfect; she knew she had found her own. She made no trouble on the journey by cars to Boston, keeping her eye on Miss Eleanor's face out of one corner of the shawl. They were perfect slaves to her, keeping her in one room. Boarding was not very convenient, even with a quiet, well-behaved cat but with her it was a dreadful experience. She had come to Boston, a great and gay city, and she did mean to see the sights. The very first Sunday she crawled out of the window, though it was only open a very little; but she squeezed herself out on to the balcony that ran around several of the houses in that block, and Miss Milly went all over the street hunting for her. Being a stranger, it was very hard. At last Topsy was found on the balcony just outside the next house, all in a heap, and for once well frightened. After Mrs. Rice and the boys came from the South, and they had a home, she was very happy, and it was then my mother met her, about which event I have already written. I did pity them; at the last, to lose her in such a manner was very hard. Miss Milly was so sad after this that Miss Eleanor said she hoped she would never tell Topsy's story again. Miss Milly would say, taking me in her arms, "I never felt comforted till I had my Daisy." This pleased me, and made me very careful to do just as they told me to. I was very glad I had heard Topsy's story. My opinion is, that the witches wanted her and called her home. Very likely she rides on their shoulders when they go through the air on a broomstick. XI REMINISCENCES