The child’s eyes glistened, she seized the roll and began eagerly to eat it; suddenly she stopped, and looked anxiously at what remained, and put it in her pocket. By this time Leila’s attention was much excited. The child, pointing to the basket, spoke aside to the baker, who was now disengaged, but in so low a tone she could not make out what she said. The man shook his head as he replied, though also in a low tone, as if unwilling to be overheard by them, “No, no, we never buy cats; take it away; it is out of the question.” The child spoke again, and with a look of much entreaty; Leila thought she could distinguish the words, _loaf_--starving. “Well,” the man said, “I don’t know as to a loaf; let me see, its skin might be worth that;” and he put out his hand as if to take the basket. The child shuddered violently, and snatching it hastily up, she proceeded towards the door. She stopped, hesitated, and turning back, she pushed the basket towards him, saying in an excited voice, “Take it out, don’t let me see it; its legs are tied, give me the loaf.” She turned from him, covered her face with her hands, and burst into tears. The young people all rose, and in a moment were around her. Matilda pushed aside the napkin which covered the basket, and there lay a beautiful large cat, with its legs tied together in a most pitiable manner. “Oh, how cruel,” Leila exclaimed, “to tie its legs!--and why, little girl, did you wish to sell your cat?--who did you say was starving?” The child made no answer; she was sobbing violently. “Poor little girl,” Leila said, in her soothing, gentle voice, “compose yourself! Don’t cry; we are not angry with you; we are sure you have done nothing wrong--do speak to us;--who did you say was starving?” “My mother and all of us,” she gasped out; “we have not a morsel of food in the house; we have had no breakfast; oh, give me the loaf, and let me go home!” Leila looked at her with a distressed and agitated countenance; “I have frightened her,” she said; “I spoke harshly to her. What can we do for her, Selina?--do tell me!” They spoke together aside for a few minutes. “Yes,” Leila continued, turning towards the little girl again, “I am sure that is the best thing to be done; Nurse always says tea is so refreshing. Don’t cry, little girl, pray don’t!--your cat is not to be sold, and your mother and all of you are to have a nice breakfast; we are going to buy tea, and sugar, and butter, and everything that is good; and the baker will give us two large loaves; we have plenty of money to pay for every thing.” While this conversation was going on, Matilda had stood beside the little girl, feeding her with what remained of her own bunn; stuffing piece after piece into her mouth, and almost choking her.