So you see we are rather a nuisance with our various likes and dislikes; but I am bound to say cook and Mary were very good while Auntie May's illness lasted, and did not alter the menu in the least. The measles lasted an age. I cannot count time, so I don't know, but I remember very clearly the first day when Auntie May was 'safe'--able to see us, I mean. She had been away to the seaside before that time, and I heard Mary say that when she came back she might go anywhere and see who she liked. Mary tied bows of ribbon on all our necks against her home-coming; she thought Auntie May wouldn't mind for once, and cook and she thought that she didn't really ever keep us smart enough. I tried not to get mine worked round to my chin so as to oblige Mary; but Fred got his mixed up with sardine-oil about an hour before she came, and had to have it taken off. We were all in her study when she came in, and I was determined she should not complain of the coldness of our welcome this time, so we all rushed at her. 'Mercy! What a lot of little catapults!' said she. The day was cold, for it was nearly autumn, and she threw off her coat, not caring how dreadfully distracting it was to Freddy. He bore it well, though, and left the most fascinating bobble untouched lest she should feel neglected. 'Where is Zobeide?' she said suddenly. 'Mary! Mary!' for Mary had bolted. 'I simply cannot rest till I find Zobeide,' she muttered, going to cupboard doors and opening them. 'The darling! Where is she, Mary? Mary!' It is always the way. She had got _us_, but people always want the one they haven't got, and then take not the slightest interest in the ones that have been good and stayed at home; for, of course, as every one knew, Zobeide was up to no good when she got herself stolen. Auntie May got quite mad with anxiety, and opened the door of her room and met Mary on the threshold. 'Mary, please, where is Zobeide?' 'Lost, Miss. Mr. Fox have called.' Auntie May banged the door and went down to see Mr. Fox. I suppose Mary told her about Zobeide on the way downstairs, that is if she cared any more to listen. People are so funny! CHAPTER XVII A WEDDING IN THE HOUSE It was the beginning of the end. Mr. Fox's sister sent word she wanted to buy a cat, either me or Fred. Auntie May told us when she came upstairs that evening after Mr. Fox had gone. (He had stayed two whole hours.) She said: 'I think I shall sell Fred, because only last night he emptied my wastepaper basket, mixed my unanswered letters with the thrown-away ones, and added a paper of tin tacks and a box of boracic-acid powder to the mess. Fred is too good to live. I hear Mr. Fox's sister is very severe with the animals about her place, so, Freddy, you will be heavily corrected for your misdemeanours. Yes, you are cut out for a country cat! Your little manners are shocking. Freddy Orson! You ought to be called Orson.'