"Most kind of Aunts.--How can I possibly go to Switzerland with you this Christmas? Have I not a father? also a younger brother? It's not because I don't want to go--you know how I would love it; but picture to yourself Father and Buff spending their Christmas alone! Would you not come to us? I propose it with diffidence, for I know you think in Glasgow dwelleth no good thing; but won't you try it? You know you have never given it a chance. A few hours on your way to the North is all you ever give us, and Glasgow can't be judged in an hour or two--nor its people either. I don't say that it would be in the least amusing for you, but it would be great fun for us, and you ought to try to be altruistic, dearest of aunts. You know quite well that Mr. Arthur Townshend will be quite all right without you for a little. He has probably lots of invitations for Christmas, being such a popular young man and----" The opening of the gate and the sound of footsteps on the gravel made Elizabeth run to the window. "Buff--_carrying_ his coat and the rain pouring! Of all the abandoned youths!" Buff dashed into the house, threw his overcoat into one corner, his cap into another, and violently assaulted the study door, kicking it when it failed to open at the first attempt. "Boy, what are you about?" asked his father, as Buff fell on his knees before the chair on which lay, comfortably asleep, the little rescued kitten. _CHAPTER IV_ "Sir Toby Belch. Does not our life consist of four elements? Sir Andrew Aguecheek. Faith, so they say, but I think it rather consists of eating and drinking." _Twelfth Night._ "Poo-or pussy!" murmured Buff, laying his head beside his treasure on the cushion. "Get up, boy," said Mr. Seton. "You carry kindness to animals too far." "And he doesn't carry tidiness any way at all," said Elizabeth, who had followed Buff into the study. "He has strewed his garments all over the place in the most shocking way. Come along, Buff, and pick them up.... Father, tell him to come." "Do as your sister says, Buff." But Buff clung limpet-like to the chair and expostulated. "What's the good of putting things tidy when I'm putting them on again in a minute?" "There's something in that," Mr. Seton said, as he put back in the shelves the books he had been using. "All I have to say," said Elizabeth, "is that if I had been brought up in this lax way I wouldn't be the example of sweetness and light I am now. Do as you are told, Buff. I hear Ellen bringing up luncheon." Buff stowed the kitten under his arm and stood up. "I'll pick them up," he said in a dignified way, "if Launcelot can have his dinner with me." "_Who?_" asked Elizabeth. "This is him," Buff explained, looking down at the distraught face of the kitten peeping from under his arm. "What made you call it Launcelot?" asked Elizabeth, as her father went out of the room laughing.