West Virginia argus. [volume] (Kingwood, W. Va.) 1877-1946, 1890-05-22
THAT WHITE CAT.

On Monday morning left Waterloo.
and in couple of hours was seated Ia
Lady Pownceby's dog-oart. NV hostess
met me at the door, and insisted ON NV
going at once to my room, where found
luncheon laid.
Dorothy is out, she said. "Sho is
busy with her poor women this morning.
She is very useful in the village; indeed
our vicar, Mr.. Haig, calls her his assis
tant-curate."
dorothy is your nieceY"
Eyes; my poor sister, Mrs. Braith-
waite's daughter. She is an orphan.
You will meet her at dinner, and I'm
sure | hope you will be great friends. ~
hoped so too. j never was lady's
man. or women friends had not one.
and OF acquaintance but few. What
would two months be at Darlington if
Dorothy and l were not friendsl / was
anxious TO meet her. Her name sounded
prlm, L thought; and her aunt's mention
OF parochial work had raised a forebod
ing within me. She was sallow, an-
gular, Old-young lady, / felt sure, who
spoke always with polish and precision,
and whose conversation savored OF the
mothers meeting. 1 was angry with
myself for coming TO this place.
Even then no relief came. AS the bell
rang, Lady Pownceby sailed into the
drawing-room. dorothy hasn't come
in yet, Mr.. Oswald Jones. We will not
wait dinner for her; one never knows
when she will return; wilf you give me
your arm2'
felt that ] was n man with n griev-
ancc. |, Oswald Jones, of the Middle
Temple, barrister-at- law, one of the
rising men, the papers said, had con-
demncd myself to spend my vacation in
an obscure country house, and Dorothy
Braithwaitc (but "A rather pretty name /
thought spinster, showed herself so un-
impressed as 20 absent herself from the
house the whole day. But with the fish
came Dorothy.
81 am sorry / am so late, aunt" she
said. "Mrs. Wade's Tommy has the
measles, and 1 had TO mind her other
ofve-branches while she fetched the
doctor. This is Dir. Oswald Jones?"
She looked at me with frank smile as
we shook hands.
She sat down and began TO eat with a
healthy appetite. / watched her. Nv
foreboding was utterly stultifcd. Tall
and stately; with complexion of red
and brown, fair hair, and pair OF eyes
large, blue, dark -fringed, expressive. I
felt my visit was not in vain. ! would
have gone twice as far to make the ac-
quaintance Of the owner Of such eyes
She was perfectly self-posscssed. She
seldom spoke. Occasionally she would
look up at me. aud / was charmed with
her delightful eyes. When the ladies
left me, / hastened after them. Lady
Pownceby was settling herself for her
post-prandial nap; Dorothy was sitting ut
the window, leaning back in her chair
and looking out.
"Come and sit here, " she said.
"Eou must make yourself at home,
Mr.. Oswald Jones" saId a sleepy voice
from the other end Of the room
81 am rather surprised to find myself
here, / said TO Dorothy.
care your Aunt often speaks Of YOU.
She thinks great deal Of you. She read
the Times, and whenever she sees your
name in the law reports, she reads them
with ten-fold interest. Here's Mr..
Oswald Jones's name again, she will say
i really must know more Of that young
man. -"
''Why does she always call me by my
full namel Why not Mr.. Jones, sim.
ply2"
"Oh, there arc so many Joncses, you
know. Our curate's name is Jones, and
no doubt she calls you Oswald Jones 70
distinguish you from him
Perhaps Dorothy was to be assistant
curate in more particular sense. Strange
TO say, felt jealous. But 7 was pre-
vented from asking any questions by a
sudden introduction TO another inmate Of
the house. Something stirred behind
the curtain at my side and out spranQe
q large white cat, which dug its claws
into the carpet and arched its back and
then leapcd in Dorothys lap. Dorothy
began stroking its head putting her head
against It's, and performing those many
little tricks which ladies and cats enjoy.
Now abominate the whole feline race.
And this cat especially won my destesta-
ton. It's fur was spotlessly white, and
the fact that 7 could find no fault with il
made me hate il the more Dorothy
spoke TO IL and kissed che animal. j
loathed It,
sI hate catsl" I cried
"Popsy hates mon," Dorothy serenely
replied "Mr Arthur Jones, our curate.
you know, is the only man she will allow
% touch her."