"O, here’s Violetta," Peggy cried. Owing to the sex of Jimmy’s protégé, Mrs. Dunn had assumed the responsibility of naming her, bestowing on the waif the name that would have been given to Bill, the baby, if his turning out a boy had not transferred the right of decision from his mother to his father. Peggy rummaged in the bottom of her basket, as the Dunns, one after another, stroked Violetta’s back, with grimy fingers, and displayed their new acquisitions. "Where has that package gone to?" scolded Peggy. "I hope I haven’t forgotten Violetta’s present. O, no, here it is." The small Dunns were bursting now with joyful curiosity, and when Peggy produced a small package from the corner into which it had rolled, and held it close to Violetta’s nose, the hush in the kitchen was like the lull that precedes a storm. The storm broke in wild outcries and hilarious laughter when Violetta, having sampled the catnip, threw herself on her ridging backbone, waved her four paws in the air, and indulged in a low rumbling purr, like the sound of distant thunder. Even Mrs. Dunn deigned to smile. "Law now!" she exclaimed. "That ain’t no common alley cat. She acts like she sensed it was Christmas, same as a human." In spite of Peggy’s early start, the dark was coming on when they got away. Elaine slipped her hand through her friend’s arm in a fashion that almost had the effect of a caress. More wonderful still, meeting Peggy’s eyes, she smiled spontaneously, not as though it cost her an effort. "It _was_ nice, Peggy," she acknowledged. "But at first I thought I wasn’t going to like it a bit. How do you put up with that woman?" Peggy smiled indulgently. "Mother says," she quoted, "that ’gratitude is the flower of human nature at its best.’ I used to scold about some of the people she helped, because it seemed to me that they didn’t half appreciate it. But she always told me that it wasn’t fair to expect too much gratitude from poor, ignorant people. I guess it’s a good thing not to start out with your expectations too high. It keeps you from being disappointed." "Your mother is so good, Peggy," Elaine said rather wistfully. "It’s no wonder--" She checked herself as if fearful of being misunderstood. "Anyway it was lovely to see the children," she hurried on, with a quick change of tone. "For a few minutes I felt as if it were really Christmas, and that’s more than I expect to feel again this year."