‘Where can we spend the night?’ Sally asked Oxford Gray, Junior. Oxford Gray, for once, was at a loss. ‘If only Elvira would come to the door of the gray house and see us, she would be sure to let us in.’ ‘I don’t know about houses,’ said Sally. ‘Mother warned me about houses. She said she had lost faith in every one since her first owners were so unkind and left her to starve when they moved to another town.’ ‘Father did not feel that way,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. ‘He said Elvira let him into the house one night when there was a great snowstorm, whatever that is. He said if trouble ever came and we could get where Elvira could see us, we’d be safe and happy.’ ‘Does the house belong to Elvira?’ ‘Father wasn’t sure. He had been told it belonged to Miss Winifred Mann. But he said if it did, it seemed strange she should take so little interest in it. He said she seemed to be out of it most of the time, while Elvira stayed in it and made it look pretty and cooked lots of meals for people and cats, especially cats. Father said Miss Winifred wasn’t a bad sort, and that she could talk very pleasantly to a cat, but that was very little good if a fellow wanted a square meal. Anyway, the house is the thing to go to on a stormy night like this. Maybe this is a snowstorm.’ ‘It can’t be,’ said Sally. ‘Father said snow was white, and that it made the earth look pretty. Oh, dear, I wish he hadn’t gone away.’ ‘Brace up, Sally,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior, who felt it would be easier to brace up himself if he had the satisfaction of scolding some one. ‘Where are we to spend the night if we can’t get into the house?’ Sally asked. ‘That place under the piazza has been fixed so that nothing can get in any more.’ ‘There are other places where we might find shelter,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. ‘I’ll go and explore.’ ‘I’ll come along with you,’ said Sally, who did not like to be left alone. ‘When I think of my brave father and my darling mother----’ ‘Oh, shut up, Sally,’ said her brother. As Sally was wise beyond her weeks, she knew that Oxford Gray, Junior, must be very cold and unhappy, or he would not be so cross, so with her usual wisdom she said: ‘Oxford Gray, Junior, you will have to be like a father to me, you are so brave, and I will try to be a mother to you; at least, I can be loving.’ At these words Oxford Gray, Junior, felt a pleasant glow about the region of his heart and the cold rain did not seem to matter so much. He did not say anything, for he was a shy kitten so far as expressing his feelings was concerned, but Sally knew by the expression of his face that he was pleased with her words. ‘If we are orphans, it is good to be twins,’ she said again. [Illustration] The kittens wandered about in the heavy rain. They were cold and forlorn, but Sally did not dare to speak of her brave father or her kind mother again. The two houses that stood inside the same fence seemed asleep. No one came to any of the windows.