"I think," said Mr. Seton dryly, "you might be many a worse thing." He rose as he spoke and brought a Bible from the table in the corner. "Ring the bell, will you? The child will be late if he doesn't come now." Even as he spoke the door was opened violently, and Buff came stumbling in, with a small frightened kitten in his arms. "Father, look!" he cried breathlessly, casting himself and his burden on his father's waistcoat. "It's a lost kitten, quite lost and very little--see the size of its tail. It's got no home, but Marget says it's got fleas and she won't let it live in her kitchen; but you'll let it stay in your study, won't you, Father? It'll sit beside you when you're writing your sermons, and then when I'm doing my lessons it'll cheer me up." Mr. Seton gently stroked the little shivering ball of fur. "Not so tight, Buff. The poor beastie can scarcely breathe. Put it on the rug now, my son. Here are the servants for prayers." But the little lost kitten clung with sharp frightened claws to Mr. Seton's trousers, and Buff, liking the situation, made no serious effort to dislodge it. The servants, Marget and Ellen, took their seats and instantly Marget's wrath was aroused and her manners forgotten. "Tak' that cat aff yer faither's breeks, David," she said severely. "Shan't," said Buff, glowering at her over his shoulder. "Don't be rude, my boy," said Mr. Seton. "_She_ was rude to the little cat, Father; she said it had fleas." "Well, well," said his father peaceably; "be quiet now while I read." Elizabeth rose and detached the kitten, taking it and Buff on her knee, while her father opened the Bible and read some verses from Jeremiah--words that Jeremiah the prophet spake unto Baruch the son of Neriah in the fourth year of Jehoiakim, the son of Josiah, king of Judah. Elizabeth stroked Buff's mouse-coloured hair and thought how remote it all sounded. This day would be full of the usual little busynesses--getting Buff away to school, ordering the dinner, shopping, writing letters, seeing people--what had all that to do with Baruch, the son of Neriah, who lived in the fourth year of Jehoiakim? The moment prayers were over Buff leapt to his feet, seized the kitten, and dashed out of the room. "He's an ill laddie that," Marget observed, "but there's wan thing aboot him, he's no' ill-kinded to beasts." "Marget," said Elizabeth, "you know quite well that in your heart you think him perfection." "No' me," said Marget; "I think no man perfection. Are ye comin' to see aboot the denner the noo, or wull I begin to ma front-door?" "Give me three minutes, Marget, to see the boys off." Two small boys with school-bags on their backs came up the gravelled path. "Here comes Thomas--and Billy following after. Buff! Buff!--where is the boy?" "Here," said Buff, emerging suddenly from his father's study. "Where's my bag?" He paid no attention to his small companion and Thomas and Billy made no sign of recognition to him.