The suspense was fast becoming unendurable. The child’s under-lip thrust out, her chin began to quiver, but she controlled herself gallantly. Nixcomeraus, the cat, rose from where he had been lying curled up in a doze, humped a lazy back, stretched, yawned, and, with dignified mien, crossed the floor to rub against his little friend’s familiar legs. That something, at least, recognized her, and knew she had come home, after her long, weary absence, almost upset Sabina’s equilibrium. She bent down to stroke pussy’s fur. "I see," she essayed, with a superb effect of nonchalance, "I see you still have the same old cat!" At the sound of her voice Martha turned. "My, my!" she exclaimed, one hand clasping the other in surprise, "you don’t mean to say this is Sabina! How glad I am to see you! Won’t you sit down an’ stay a little while? Cora an’ Francie an’ Saromy’ve gone out strollin’, but they’ll be back before long, an’ they’d be disappointed if you’d ’a’ went before they got home, so’s they’d miss your call." Sabina’s eyes rolled. She gulped hard once, twice, three times. Then with a roar, her "austere control" gave way, she cast herself bodily upon her mother, clasping the maternal massive knees. "I ain’t goin’ to stay _a lit-tle whi-ile_," she sobbed. "I’m goin’ to stay _always_. I want C-Cora! ’n’ I want F-Francie! ’n’ I want S-Sammy! ’n’ YOU!" Martha bent to lift the giant-child so the stout little arms could clutch her neck. "Now, what do you think o’ that!" she ejaculated, holding the shaken traveler close. Appeared Sammy in the doorway, troubled at first but brightening suddenly at sight of his recovered sister. "Hey, Sabina’s home!" he shouted ecstatically back to the others. Then all came trooping in with a rush, clinging about the youngest, hugging her, kissing her as if she had been gone a year. "Why, it’s just like the Prodigal’s son, ain’t it?" suggested Martha, in whose lap Sabina sat enthroned, refusing to leave it for even a moment. "Who’s he?" asked Sammy. Mrs. Slawson cast a look of reproach at her son. "Shame on you, to ask such a question, at your age! Don’t you remember the old prodigal gen’lman lived in the Bible, which his son had a rovin’ disposition an’ went off gallivantin’ till his pervisions give out, an’ he had to come home to get a square meal? When his father saw’m afar off, he got up, an’ went out, an’ called’m a fatted calf, an’—no I I’m wrong, he asked’m wouldn’t he _like_ some fatted calf, which, his son, bein’ fond o’ young veal, _did_, an’ so they killed’m—I mean the calf. Now I’m wonderin’ which one o’ you three I better do it to for Sabina! There, there, Sabina! Don’t holla so! O’ course I don’t mean I’d reely hurt your brothers an’ sisters. Come, you’re all tired out, or you wouldn’t be so foolish! Cheer up, now! You’re back home, after all your wanderin’s, an’ you won’t be naughty any more—_if you can help it_, will you?" *CHAPTER XI*