This cat ingratiated herself into favor with every one in the house, but she was particularly devoted to the master. Once, after a family of kittens had been born, she had a fancy that they should live in the study. So she brought them up, one by one, from the kitchen floor, where a comfortable bed had been provided for them, and deposited them in a corner of the study. They were taken down stairs by order of the master, who said he really could _not_ allow the kittens to be in his room. Williamina tried again, but again with the same result. But when the third time she carried a kitten up the stairs into the hall, and from there to the study window, jumping in with it in her mouth, and laying it at her master's feet, until the whole family were at last before him, and she herself sat down beside them and gave him an imploring look, he could resist no longer, and Williamina carried the day. As the kittens grew up they became very rampagious, and swarmed up the curtains and played on the writing-table, and scampered among the book-shelves, and made such a noise as was never heard in the study before. But the same spirit which influenced the whole house must have been brought to bear upon those noisy little creatures to keep them still and quiet when necessary, for they were never complained of, and they were never turned out of the study until the time came for giving them away and finding good homes for them. One kitten was kept, and, being a very exceptional cat, deserves to be specially mentioned. Being deaf, he had no name given him, but was called by the servants “the master's cat,” in consequence of his devotion to him. He was always with his master, and used to follow him about the garden and sit with him while he was writing. One evening they were left together, the ladies of the house having gone to a ball in the neighborhood. Charles Dickens was reading at a small table on which a lighted candle was placed, when suddenly the candle went out. He was much interested in his book, relighted the candle, gave a pat to the cat, who he noticed was looking up at him with a most pathetic expression, and went on with his reading. A few minutes afterwards, the light getting dim, he looked up and was in time to see Puss deliberately put out the candle with his paw, and then gaze again appealingly at his master. This second appeal was understood, and had the desired effect. The book was shut, and Puss was made a fuss with and amused till bed-time. His master was full of this anecdote when we all met in the morning.