Aunt Cynthia's Persian Cat Page #4

"Aunt Cynthia's Persian Cat" is a charming short story by Lucy Maud Montgomery, centering around a young girl named Valancy Stirling and her fondness for her Aunt Cynthia's beloved cat. The tale explores themes of love, family, and the bittersweet nature of companionship, as Valancy navigates her feelings towards the passing of time and the relationships that shape her life. Montgomery’s signature lyrical prose and keen observations of human emotion shine through, making this story a delightful read for fans of her work.

• Short story

								

comes you will have to tell her that the cat--is lost--but you
needn't say WHEN it happened.  As for the rest, Fatima is your
property now, so Aunt Cynthia can't grumble.  But she will have a
poorer opinion than ever of your fitness to run a house alone."

When Max left I went to the window to watch him down the path.
He was really a handsome fellow, and I was proud of him.  At the
gate he turned to wave me good-by, and, as he did, he glanced
upward.  Even at that distance I saw the look of amazement on his
face.  Then he came bolting back.

"Ismay, the house is on fire!" I shrieked, as I flew to the door.

"Sue," cried Max, "I saw Fatima, or her ghost, at the garret
window a moment ago!"

"Nonsense!" I cried.  But Ismay was already half way up the
stairs and we followed.  Straight to the garret we rushed.  There
sat Fatima, sleek and complacent, sunning herself in the window.

Max laughed until the rafters rang.

"She can't have been up here all this time," I protested, half
tearfully.  "We would have heard her meowing."

"But you didn't," said Max.

"She would have died of the cold," declared Ismay.

"But she hasn't," said Max.

"Or starved," I cried.

"The place is alive with mice," said Max.  "No, girls, there is
no doubt the cat has been here the whole fortnight.  She must
have followed Huldah Jane up here, unobserved, that day.  It's a
wonder you didn't hear her crying--if she did cry.  But perhaps
she didn't, and, of course, you sleep downstairs.  To think you
never thought of looking here for her!"

"It has cost us over a hundred dollars," said Ismay, with a
malevolent glance at the sleek Fatima.

"It has cost me more than that," I said, as I turned to the
stairway.

Max held me back for an instant, while Ismay and Fatima pattered
down.

"Do you think it has cost too much, Sue?" he whispered.

I looked at him sideways.  He was really a dear. Niceness fairly
exhaled from him.

"No-o-o," I said, "but when we are married you will have to take
care of Fatima, I won't."

"Dear Fatima," said Max gratefully.
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