"I did not think of it until after I had put in the rabbit," he replied. "And it shall remain; for it suits my purpose, and Titian would not claim all the white rabbits because of that one." "Did you think of the black lamb in it, then, when you laid that black pussy on the hearth?" I asked. "Black lamb?" he returned. "Yes," I insisted; "a black lamb, in the dark background--such a very black lamb, and in such a dark background, that it seems you never discovered it." "Are you sure?" he persisted. "Absolutely certain," I replied. "I pointed it out to papa in the picture itself in the Louvre; he had not observed it before either." "I am very glad to know there is such a thing there. I need not answer your question, you see. It is odd enough I should have put in the black puss. Upon some grounds I might argue that my puss is better than Titian's lamb." "What grounds? tell me." "If the painter wanted a contrast, a lamb, be he as black as ever paint could make him, must still be a more Christian animal than a cat as white as snow. Under what pretence could a cat be used for a Christian symbol?" "What do you make of her playfulness?" "I should count that a virtue, were it not for the fatal objection that it is always exercised at the expense of other creatures." "A ball of string, or a reel, or a bit of paper, is enough for an uncorrupted kitten." "But you must not forget that it serves only in virtue of the creature's imagination representing it as alive. If you do not make it move, she will herself set it in motion as the initiative of the game. If she cannot do that, she will take no notice of it." "Yes, I see. I give in." All this time he had been painting diligently. He could now combine talking and painting far better than he used. But a knock came to the study door; and, remembering baby's unpresentable condition, I huddled her up, climbed the stair again, and finished the fledging of my little angel in a very happy frame of mind. CHAPTER XV. RUMORS. Hardly was it completed, when Cousin Judy called, and I went down to see her, carrying my baby with me. As I went, something put me in mind that I must ask her for Miss Clare's address. Lest I should again forget, as soon as she had kissed and admired the baby, I said,-- "Have you found out yet where Miss Clare lives, Judy?" "I don't choose to find out," she answered. "I am sorry to say I have had to give her up. It is a disappointment, I confess." "What do you mean?" I said. "I thought you considered her a very good teacher." "I have no fault to find with her on that score. She was always punctual, and I must allow both played well and taught the children delightfully. But I have heard such questionable things about her!--very strange things indeed!" "What are they?" "I can't say I've been able to fix on more than one thing directly against her character, but"-- "Against her character!" I exclaimed.