‘Here he is! Here is Oxford Gray, Junior, himself,’ she said. ‘He came for me. He knew my voice.’ Elvira was greatly surprised. ‘He just happened to come along at that time,’ she said; then, as she started to brush the casing of snow from the cat, she said, ‘This isn’t Oxford Gray, Junior. This is Peter.’ ‘Peter!’ gasped Miss Winifred. ‘Who on earth is Peter?’ ‘Somebody’s house-cat; somebody’s pet that has been left to make his own way in the world.’ ‘How did he happen to come here? Is he one of your friends who takes his meals at your cafeteria on the piazza?’ ‘He’s had a few meals,’ Elvira admitted. ‘And he will have as many more as he likes. I’d rather spend my money feeding cats than going to the movies. It’s more amusing to me.’ ‘Of course we must keep him for the night,’ said Miss Winifred, ‘and he must have a good meal, but I really can’t keep him permanently, Elvira; two cats are quite enough.’ ‘Oxford agrees with you,’ said Elvira. ‘You’ll have no trouble once he gets home.’ The next morning the sun shone, and Oxford came back as unconcernedly as if he had caused no anxiety. No one knew his adventures except Sally, but he looked so prosperous and seemed so little to desire food that the family were sure he had been housed somewhere. As he went out for a stroll later in the morning, he met Peter coming out of the cellar door. ‘What have you been doing in my house?’ he demanded sternly. For once the silent Peter found his tongue. ‘It is my house now,’ he said proudly. ‘Miss Winifred asked me in herself.’ ‘She didn’t!’ Oxford exclaimed. ‘She did! She said, “Walk in, darling pussy,” so I walked in.’ [Illustration] CHAPTER XII SALLY AND THE LOUD SPEAKER Sally spent a great deal of time in the parlor. In the morning she often had it to herself, for Miss Winifred was usually out of the house, or writing on her typewriter. ‘The parlor is mine in the morning,’ she told Oxford. ‘You can go into your old parlor all you like,’ said he. ‘I like my kitchen best.’ Sally suspected that his scorn of the parlor came because he was not allowed to go into it, as he was not as quiet and well-behaved as Sally. In the evening Miss Harvey often sat there reading the newspaper to Miss Winifred. Sally was often bored by the newspaper, and she would get up in Miss Harvey’s lap and sit on it so that she could not read. Miss Harvey would say in her gentle voice, ‘Come, Sally, please get off my paper.’ Sally would pretend that she did not understand, and she would put her furry paws around Miss Harvey’s neck and press her furry face against her cheek. ‘Sally, you are a nuisance,’ were the unkindest words Miss Harvey ever said, and Sally would once more pretend she did not understand. Sometimes Miss Harvey would stop reading if it was almost bedtime; Sally always hoped this would happen, and sometimes she would gently put Sally on the center table, where she would settle for a nap in the friendly warmth of the electric lamp.