Should not I then have been by his side to help him when he
selected a woman for the post of caring for our-forgive me, sir, I
said 'our'--caring for our cats? I should. I asked myself how I could
make amends. Only by begging my uncle's forgiveness for my
indifference and by imploring him to let me help him in the choice of
the next woman he selects."
A masterly pause he followed with an appeal sent forth in tones of
rare beauty: "Oh, sir, I do beg your forgiveness; I do implore you let
me make amends by helping you in your next choice."
Mr. Marrapit wiped moist eyes. "I had not suspected in you this
profundity of feeling."
George said brokenly: "I have given you no reason."
Mr. Marrapit replied on a grim tone: "Assuredly you have not."
George glanced at Note 6; fled from the danger zone.
"Where I fear the mistake was made in Mrs. Major," he hurried, "was
that she was not a perfect lady. Our--forgive me for saying 'our'--our
cats are refined cats, cats of gentle birth, of inherent delicacy.
Their attendant should be of like breeding. She should be refined, her
birth should be gentle, her feelings delicate. She should be a lady."
"You are right," Mr. Marrapit said. "As sea calleth to sea, as like
calleth to like, so would an ebb and flow of sympathy be set in motion
between my cats and an attendant delicately born.
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