Friskarina had a strong idea that it would be advisable to keep out of Glumdalkin's way that afternoon as long as possible, having a pretty tolerable notion of the sort of temper her respected relative would be most likely to be found in, so, cold as it was out-of-doors, Friskarina could not muster resolution to go into the house till it was really getting quite late, almost tea-time. So she amused herself with making foot-marks in the snow, and running after the twigs that the wind blew about, and such like diversions, till it got almost dark, and she began to feel very hungry, for she had not had much dinner. That put her in mind of her new friend; and she reflected, with great satisfaction, that poor Tibb certainly was not nearly so hungry that night as she had been before: and then she began to wonder where the princess could have been going to, and whether she would see the poor old woman at the cottage: and Friskarina thought what a fine thing it must be to be a princess, and to be able to help people who were in distress. What a great deal of good I would do! thought she, as she threw herself down to rest upon a little heap of snow. I would be so careful, and never waste anything; and I would have all the bones saved for the poor cats round my palace; and,—O what a deal of good I would do, if I were only a great lady, like the princess! Just then, a very odd thought came into Friskarina's head. She began to consider whether she had done all the good she might have done, as it was: and suddenly it struck her, that she had very often, indeed, ate a great deal more dinner than she really wanted, just because it happened to be nice; and she remembered, that once or twice old Bear, the watch-dog, who was chained up in the yard, had said to her, how glad he should be to have something more to eat; and yet it was very odd, but it had never occurred to her, that she might so easily have saved him a bone or two at her dinner time, and yet have had plenty for herself too.

So poor little Friskarina hung her head down, and felt quite ashamed; the tears came into her eyes. 'Poor Bear!' she said, 'I might have helped you very often, if I had only thought about you. I'm afraid I have been very selfish!'

And then she began to think, that perhaps it was rather unkind in her not to go and look after poor old Glumdalkin, who was, no doubt, in no very happy mood. So, screwing up her courage as well as she could, she trotted up stairs, and, finding that the princess was just entering the drawing-room, she slipped in after her. The fire was blazing gloriously; but, at first, Friskarina was quite unable to see anything of her second cousin once removed, (I'm afraid Friskarina now and then sincerely wished her removed altogether!) for though the fire was bright, there were no candles in the room, and it was a very large one, so that the further extremity of it was rather dark. So she began looking round, for she could not imagine where the old cat could be gone to: at last, quite at the far end, she thought she perceived some black object behind one of the chairs, and, on going up to it, found Glumdalkin, with her eyes closed, her head very erect, her tail curled very tight round her toes, and her whole person apparently immovable, except, now and then, an angry twitch at the end of her tail.

Friskarina saw plain enough that she was not asleep; so, as she really felt rather sorry for her, she asked her if she did not feel cold, sitting so far from the fire.

'I beg, Ma'am, you won't trouble yourself about me,' was the gracious reply; 'if I chose to sit by the fire, I should do so: I suppose the princess would not order me out!' this was said with such a strange kind of hysterical laugh, that Friskarina thought she was going to burst into a fit of crying.

'Come,' she said, kindly, 'don't be so unhappy, my dear Glumdalkin! I am sure the princess did not mean to be unkind to you; I do think she was only afraid you might, perhaps, not be quite careful enough—might take more than was really good for you; I'm quite certain she did not intend anything uncivil.'

'And do you mean to say,' screamed Glumdalkin, 'that, at my time of life, I'm to be dictated to by a young thing like the princess, and that I can't be trusted to eat my dinner? No, indeed, I won't submit to it! I'm not going to bear such indignities! The princess will find out her mistake when I am gone.'

'But,' said Friskarina, very gently, 'what can you do?'

'Do!' said Glumdalkin, striking her paw with great violence upon the top of a footstool, 'do! why, can't I leave the palace? You don't suppose I shall remain here another day, do you? I shall look out for another situation directly—a cat like myself won't go a-begging.'

Friskarina was so astonished at this sudden resolve, that it was a minute or two before she could answer; at length, she quietly asked when Glumdalkin intended to quit the palace.

'To-morrow, decidedly;' replied Glumdalkin, 'perhaps I may stay till after dinner, there's a basket of fish just come in, and I am really not strong enough to encounter the fatigue of the thing in a morning, it will be a great trial to me—very great.' And Glumdalkin put her paw up to her eyes for a few moments; but Friskarina thought it did not look at all wet when she put it down.

'I am very much concerned for you,' she said; 'and I do strongly recommend to you not to think of going away: you will be lost in the snow, and I am sure you would not like to take shelter in any of the cottages; think what wretched places they are! What will become of you? you will lose your way in the woods, or fall a prey to some wild beast; do pray think better of it.'

Glumdalkin sat silent for some minutes, seemingly plunged in the most dismal meditations.

'Well,' she said, at length, in a rather mollified tone, 'I have no doubt you would all miss me dreadfully; you, especially, Friskarina, as you are so young and giddy, and so little able to take care of yourself; we will see, I don't wish to do anything unkind by you—'

Just at that moment Grandmagnificolowsky entered with the princess's supper; and as the princess called 'Puss! puss!' several times, Glumdalkin was forced at last to present herself, being rather hungry besides; so she lapped a saucer of cream that her mistress condescended to pour out for her, much more thankfully than usual, and then went off to bed, thinking that, after all, she might, perhaps, vouchsafe to remain in the palace; and she dreamt all night that she was being pursued by wolves in a forest, and was forced to take refuge in a miserable hut, where she had nothing to eat but a bit of mouldy cheese, and nothing to drink but a drop of muddy water.

What did little Friskarina dream about? I can't tell you; but the first thing she thought of, when she awoke in the morning, was poor Tibb, and the wretched cold bed she had that night—how different from her own, with its nice soft warm cushions.

Glumdalkin got up later than usual, and looked nearly as cross as when she went to bed; but she said nothing more about going: and Friskarina took care at breakfast to show her every possible good-natured attention; she gave her by much the largest share of the cream, took the draughty side of the hearthrug herself, and, in short, did everything she could to show that she was anxious to be kind and civil to her; but all her little politenesses seemed nearly lost upon Glumdalkin.

She sate, humped up, all the morning by the fire, with her shoulders up to her ears, and with a gleam in her eyes, if