Chapter III

PON the return of Spring, her uncles departed for the buttery, to open up the summer residence.

“Above all else,” the dowager mouse admonished them in parting, “keep your eyes and ears alert for the you-know-to-what-I-refer!”

They assured her repeatedly that she might set her fears for their safety at rest, but it was the last that was ever seen of them. Not for some weeks did word of their fate at the hands of the castle cat reach the dowager mouse.

This last cruel blow on the part of Fate flung the venerable creature into a decline.

“I am not long for this world,” she said; and Desbarollda’s mother flung her apron over her head and sobbed: “What is to become of us all? We shall starve!”

“We shall manage,” replied the dowager mouse, rallying her invincible tenacity of spirit. “The saddest aspect of the situation is the effect upon the child. She has no male relatives: a young child requires the presence of male relatives. Come here,” she said to Desbarollda, who ran at once to her knee. “What can you do, child, in the manner of a constructive occupation? For as you can see, we are soon to depend upon our natural wit and resource for existence.”

“I can dance,” said Desbarollda hopefully, after giving the matter much thought.

“It is unheard of!” exclaimed the dowager mouse, much disconcerted. “To what manner of dance do you refer?”

“The waltz,” said Desbarollda, timidly.

The dowager mouse tapped her cane upon the floor with authority and demanded of the room at large, in deliberate accents, who, if anybody, had ever heard of a waltzing mouse?

“I’m sure I never have!” said Desbarollda’s mother in some bewilderment.

“Nor I!” said the dowager mouse imposingly. “You’ll be telling me of a cat that rides to hounds next, for certain! How do you know you can waltz, child? Demonstrate the waltz to us, at your pleasure!”

Obediently, Desbarollda raised herself upon her toes and pirouetted.

It was neither so airy nor so gracefully balanced a performance as she was in later years destined to achieve, but it was charming.

The dowager mouse, concealing her gratification at the spectacle in the cause of principle, shook her head and tapped her cane severely.

“That is enough,” she said. “We will concede the fact that you can waltz. Nothing will come of it; it will serve no purpose. Your grandfather would have considered it frivolous, but I see no great harm in it, provided you attach to it no undue importance. There are other, more serious concerns, my child, to which we must apply ourselves. In a young mouse, the building of character is of first importance . . .” and she proceeded to instruct Desbarollda in many industrious matters, and upon a high moral plane. Desbarollda listened obediently and attentively, willing to be informed and eager to improve herself: her disposition was at all times amiable and affectionate.

Indeed, it was to these qualities that she owed her escape from her first dire misfortune, which might well have proved fatal, and which came about in the following manner.