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Updated: June 18, 2025
Meanwhile the disorganisation in the nursery was tremendous; the children, vaguely aware of the household demoralisation and excitement, took the opportunity to break loose on every occasion; and Kit-Ki, to her infinite boredom and disgust, was hunted from garret to cellar; and Drina, taking advantage, contrived to over-eat herself and sit up late, and was put to bed sick; and Eileen, loyal, but sorrowfully amazed at her brother's exclusion of her in such a crisis, became slowly overwhelmed with the realisation of her loneliness, and took to the seclusion of her own room, feeling tearful and abandoned, and very much like a very little girl whose heart was becoming far too full of all sorts of sorrows.
It is vicious. Kit-Ki took a nap on a new dinner-gown of mine, and I slapped her. And the other day Drina hid in a clothes-press while Nina was discussing my private affairs, and when the little imp emerged I could have shaken her. Oh, I am certainly becoming infirm; so if you are, too, comfort yourself with the knowledge that I am keeping pace with you through the winter of our discontent."
But Selwyn laughingly declined, and after a little while he went away, first to look up a book which he was having bound for Eileen, then to call on his sister who, with Eileen, had just returned from a week at Silverside with the children, preliminary to moving the entire establishment there for the coming summer; for the horses and dogs had already gone; also Kit-Ki, a pessimistic parrot, and the children's two Norwegian ponies.
Haven't you heard a word from him, Nina?" Nina, in her pretty night attire, had emerged from her dressing-room, locked out Kit-Ki and her maid, and had curled up in a big, soft armchair, cradling her bare ankles in her hand. "I haven't heard from him," she said. "Rosamund saw him in Washington passed him on the street. He was looking horridly thin and worn, she wrote. He did not see her."
When they look pleasant they smile," said Drina, and continued reading from her own works: "Be kind in all You say and do For God made Kit-Ki The same as you. "Yours truly, "ALEXANDRINA GERARD. She looked doubtfully at Selwyn. "Is it all right to sign a poem? I believe that poets sign their works, don't they, Uncle Philip?" "Certainly. Drina, I'll give you a dollar for that poem."
The little maid vanished; Kit-Ki, who had been unceremoniously spilled from Selwyn's knees, sat yawning, then rose and walked noiselessly to the hearth. "I don't know how I happened to do it," he muttered, still abashed by his plight. "We rekindled the fire for your benefit," she said; "you had better use it before you retire."
Selwyn, I can see the end of it. She can't stand it; she's too young not to get over it. . . . So, what would you do?" "Who is she, Gerald?" "I won't tell you." "Oh! . . . Of course she's the right sort?" "Perfectly." "Young?" "Very. Out last season." Selwyn rose and began to pace the floor; Kit-Ki, disturbed, looked up, then resumed her purring.
A little later, the fire having burned low, he rose, laid a pair of heavy logs across the coals, dragged his chair to the hearth, and settled down in it deeply. Then he lifted the cat to his knees. Kit-Ki sang blissfully, spreading and relaxing her claws at intervals as she gazed at the mounting blaze.
"I'm going to bed, Kit-Ki," he repeated absently, "because that's a pretty good place for me . . . far better than sitting up here with you and conscience." But he only lay back deeper in the velvet chair and lighted another cigar.
He sat there without moving for a long time; his cigar, burning close, had gone out. The reading-lamp spread a circle of soft light over the floor; on the edge of it lay Kit-Ki, placid, staring at him. After a while he noticed her. "You?" he said absently; "you hid so they couldn't put you out." At the sound of his voice she began to purr.
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