"It is the most wonderful thing!" Then a shadow of trouble came into her face, for her superstitions were aroused, and she reluctantly put the creature down, saying: "I suppose I must let it go; I am not afraid--no, not exactly that, though the priest--well, I've heard people--indeed, many people...

And, besides, it is quite well now and can take care of itself." She sighed, and turned to go, murmuring: "It is such a pretty one, too, and would be such company--and the house is so sad and lonesome these troubled days...

Miss Marget so mournful and just a shadow, and the old master shut up in jail." "It seems a pity not to keep it," said Satan.
Ursula turned quickly--just as if she were hoping some one would encourage her.
"Why ?" she asked, wistfully.
"Because this breed brings luck." "Does it?
Is it true?
Young man, do you know it to be true?
How does it bring luck ?" "Well, it brings money, anyway." Ursula looked disappointed.

"Money?
A cat bring money?
The idea! You could never sell it here; people do not buy cats here; one can't even give them away." She turned to go.
"I don't mean sell it.

I mean have an income from it.