“Now, Selina, take the bellows, and blow very gently while I am crumbling down a little of the peat; that’s it. Oh, how nice! See what a blaze already--now for the wood; we must put the wood behind, and more peats in the front--how it burns! is not this charming?” Bill stood looking on in mute astonishment. “Well,” he said at last, “desert island, or _no desert island_, you are a handy little miss; see when a London young lady would have kindled a fire in such a fashion,--but you seem all of one stamp. Heaven be praised for such a family.” “There is still one thing wanting,” Leila said, “still the cat. Peggy will not think herself at home without a cat upon the hearth. You are so good-natured,” she continued, looking up in Bill’s face, “perhaps you would be so very kind as to give us your cat, just for one day, till Peggy has time to unpack her own.” Bill smiled. “There is nothing in my house that I would not give,” he replied, “to pleasure my young mistress; but, bless your heart, the cats in our country would never abide on a strange hearth. Our cat would be through the window in no time, I am afeared.” “It was very foolish in me to propose this,” Leila answered, “for I dare say all cats are the same, and our Selina almost mewed her heart out when she was first put into the ship--she can’t bear strange places either.” Once more she looked around the room to see if all was perfect; the small latticed window with the China-roses clustering in about it, she was sure would delight Peggy, for Peggy was so fond of flowers; might they not gather a few and make a nosegay for the middle of the table. The next moment they were all in the little garden--the flowers were quickly gathered and arranged, and after giving Bill many injunctions to be so very kind as to step up frequently and put more wood on the fire, and also to be quite sure to send off a quick messenger the very moment Peggy and the pets entered the gates, they left the cottage. They had not time to enter the house at Woodlands, where all with regard to furnishing had been going on prosperously, but they had seen what had been done there more than once. Leila had thought it all beautiful, but she had a simple taste; she really did not like fine things, and her only request with regard to the furnishing had been, “Nothing fine in my room, papa--please, nothing fine; just a nice little bed with white dimity curtains, and a large sea-grass mat under my little washhand-stand, for I don’t like to wash and dash and splash on a Brussels carpet.”