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Wren had been left in an upstairs room, rummages through an old wardrobe in search of proper stockings and shoes for that evening’s party. It had taken her quite some time, for she tried on what pairs of shoes she could find and also sought for stockings that might match the dress Ginger had carried off with her.
After some time of such work, she finally found shoes that would fit at least decently, and stockings that would match. She put everything back where it belonged and closed all the drawers and doors and tops of everything and left the room as undisturbed as she and Ginger had entered it earlier.
She reached the bottom of the stair way and dodged across the common room as inconspicuously as she could possibly managed and pushed the kitchen door open carefully. The sight that met her eyes caused her to stop in the doorway where she stood. The door closed softly behind her and she remained rooted in her place.
The cook, who was no longer on the floor, looked absolutely furious, and she was wet, no less. Ruby was in the act of pulling a cat back into the kitchen through the window by its tail.
It had been Cook’s appearance that had first shocked Wren, but when her eyes clapped to the cat being dragged back against it’s will, her little heart went out to it and she started forward with a cry of indignation, dropping her burden as she went, her young eyes flashing.
“Don’t hurt the poor cat! Don’t pull it’s tail! Leave it alone! What did he ever do to you to deserve that treatment! Give him to me.”
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