One evening Mrs. Miller, seated with Miss Wilson in the study,
correcting examination papers, heard in the distance a cry like that
of a cat in distress. She ran to the door and listened. Presently there
arose a prolonged wail, slurring up through two octaves, and subsiding
again. It was a true feline screech, impossible to localize; but it
was interrupted by a sob, a snarl, a fierce spitting, and a scuffling,
coming unmistakably from a room on the floor beneath, in which, at that
hour, the older girls assembled for study.

"My poor Gracchy!" exclaimed Mrs. Miller, running downstairs as fast as
she could. She found the room unusually quiet. Every girl was deep in
study except Miss Carpenter, who, pretending to pick up a fallen
book, was purple with suppressed laughter and the congestion caused by
stooping.

"Where is Miss Ward?" demanded Mrs. Miller.

"Miss Ward has gone for some astronomical diagrams in which we are
interested," said Agatha, looking up gravely. Just then Miss Ward,
diagrams in hand, entered.

"Has that cat been in here?" she said, not seeing Mrs. Miller, and
speaking in a tone expressive of antipathy to Gracchus.

Agatha started and drew up her ankles, as if fearful of having them
bitten. Then, looking apprehensively under the desk, she replied, "There
is no cat here, Miss Ward."

"There is one somewhere; I heard it," said Miss Ward carelessly,
unrolling her diagrams, which she began to explain without further