It really was a trial to Edith to see all her neat arrangements upset, and to find how very coolly Fred did it, too.  She sighed and thought, “Ah, I shall not be mistress here now I see!” but Fred was gone down stairs for some water and seed, and did not hear her laments.  He was very full of his scheme for canary breeding at supper, and Emilie was quite as full of sympathy in his joy as Fred desired; she took a real interest in the matter.  Her father, she said, had given much attention to canary breeding, for the Germans were noted for their management of canaries; she could help him, she thought, if he would accept her help.  So they were very merry over the affair at supper time, and Mr. Parker, in his quiet way, enjoyed it too.  Suddenly, however, the merriment received a check.  Margaret, who had been to look at the birds, came in with the intelligence that Muff, the pet cat of Miss Edith, was sitting in the dusk, watching the canaries with no friendly eye, and that she had even made a dart at the cage; and she prophesied that the birds would not be safe long.  A bird of ill omen was Margaret always; she thought the worst and feared the worst of every one, man or animal.  “Why, it is easy to keep the door of the cage shut,” John remarked, but to keep puss out of her old haunts was not possible.

Muff was not a kitten, but a venerable cat, who had belonged to Edith’s elder sister, and was given to Edith, the day that sister married, as a very precious gift; and Edith loved that grey cat, loved her dearly.  She always sat in the same place in that dear little room.  Edith had only that day made her a new red leather collar, and Muff looked very smart in it.  “Muff won’t hurt the birds, Fred dear,” said Edith, “she is not like a common cat.”  Whatever points of dissimilarity there might he between Muff and the cat race in general, in this particular she quite resembled them; she loved birds, and would not be very nice as to the manner of obtaining them.  What was to be done?  Fred had all manner of projects in his head for teaching the canaries to fly out and in the cage, to bathe, to perch on his finger, etc.; but if, whenever any one chanced to leave the door of the room open, Muff were to bounce in, why there was an end to all such schemes.  In short, Muff would get the birds by fair means or foul, there was no doubt of that, and Fred was desperate.  I cannot tell how many times Muff was called “a nasty cat,” “a tiresome cat,” “a vicious cat,” and little Edith’s heart was full, for she did not believe any evil of her favourite; and to hear her so maligned, seemed like a personal insult; but she bore it patiently.  She asked Emilie at bed time what she should do about Muff; she had so long been accustomed to her seat by the sunny window in Edith’s room, that to try and tempt her from it she knew would be vain.