The next morning, Millie
and Matilda set off across the meadow, trudging through the snow
towards the old farmhouse. It some places, the wind had piled the
snow into great big drifts that were so deep the two mice had to
burrow their way through. Matilda wasn't used to such hard exercise
and, by the time they eventually arrived at the old farmhouse,
she was quite breathless with exhaustion.
"Well, here we are," Announced
Millie,
"This is the kitchen door."
Matilda stared up at it: it was
quite the most enormous door she had ever seen in her life.
"How do we knock on it?" She
whispered to Millie, "it's so big: nobody would hear us.
"We don't," Replied
Millie, "We tap at the window instead. Come on, follow
me."
Matilda followed Millie as she
climbed up a bush growing beside the kitchen wall, then scuttled
out along one of its branches and jumped onto the sill of the
kitchen window.
"What do we do now?" Asked
Matilda.
Millie rubbed snow from a corner
of the window and peered through.
"I can see Mrs Katie's in
there: I think she's baking a cake," She said, "Help
me clear the window a bit more."
They wiped away pawfuls of snow,
and knocked.
At the sound of two tiny pairs
of paws pattering on the windowpane, Mrs Katie looked up from
the great big kitchen table that stood next to the window. The
table was covered in flour, and butter and salt and sugar and
jam and bits of pastry, and there was a large plate of scones
at one end. It looked wonderfully untidy in a comfortable, friendly
sort of way. 
"Good Heavens!" She
exclaimed, "it's Millie!" She peered more closely,
"And who's that with her?"
Mrs Katie dusted the flour off
her hands on her apron, lifted the latch on the window and pushed
it open.
"Hallo, Millie," She
said, "What brings you here, my dear? I thought you'd
be tucked up in your nest. And who's your friend?"
"Morning, Mrs Katie," Millie
was jumping up and down, trying to keep warm, "This is
Matilda."
"Hi, Mrs Katie," Matilda
waved shyly and smiled as she hopped and shivered on the window
sill, her breath steaming in the wintry sunlight.
"You two must be freezing," Said
Mrs Katie,
"Come on in where it's warm and tell me what's on your mind."
Millie hesitated.
"Is it alright if we jump
on to your table?"
She asked, "We've both got wet feet."
Mrs Katie smiled
"It's only snow," She
said, "That never hurt anybody."
Millie and Matilda hopped from
the windowsill on to the kitchen table and padded across it,
their wet paws leaving little trails in the flour. Matilda sniffed;
the plate full of freshly-baked scones at the other end of the
table smelt quite delicious. She suddenly felt very, very hungry.
Mrs Katie seemed to read Matilda's
thoughts.
"Here,"
Mrs Katie smiled, and slid the plate towards the two mice, "Have
a scone: I've just finished baking them: they're still warm."
Matilda clasped a large crumb between
her paws and nibbled happily: she had never tasted anything quite
so absolutely scrumptious before.
"So,"
Said Mrs Katie at last, "What brings you two mice out in
the middle of winter?"
Matilda was too shy and nervous
to say anything, so Millie took charge and told Mrs Katie the
whole, sad story of how Matilda had lost her home and had nowhere
to go.
"So,"
Millie said at the end, "We were wondering if there were
a little tiny space in the farmhouse where Matilda could build
a nest, just to herself."
Mrs Katie thought a while, then
smiled. 
"Well,"
She said, "As it happens, I think there might be. There's
a small burrow at the bottom of the wall in the back porch. It
runs under the farmhouse, and it's very sheltered. I know one
or two other mice have lived there before quite happily."
"Could you show us where
it is?"
Mrs Katie opened the kitchen door
and led the way to the back porch of the farmhouse.
"There,"
She pointed to the bottom of the stone farmhouse wall, "Close
by the doorstep: Can you see it?"
In between two of the large grey
stones, tucked away in a little corner, was a small doorway.
"Ooh,"
Matilda whispered in Millie's ear, "it looks so nice; sort
of small and friendly."
"Could we look inside, please?" Millie
asked Mrs Katie. 
"Of course you can: I'll
wait here until you come back out again."
Millie and Matilda opened the tiny
door and nosed their way curiously into the burrow, not at all
sure what they were going to find.
Inside, there was a comfortable
little sitting room, with a small fireplace and two comfy armchairs
with lovely plump soft cushions just waiting to be sat in; a
bedroom with an old-fashioned box-bed tucked away cosily in one
corner; even a tiny kitchen. It was exactly what Matilda had
been hoping to find.
They scuttled excitedly back outside
again.
"Would it be alright if
I moved in today?"
Matilda asked Mrs Katie, nervous in case she might change her
mind and decide she didn't want a mouse living under the farmhouse,
"I'd be very very quiet."
"Of course it would," Replied
Mrs Katie,
"And you look like a well-behaved young mouse. But I don't
think there are any bedclothes and there's nothing for you to
cook with."
"That's OK," Piped
up Millie, "Matilda can borrow some things from us, and
when the summer comes we can go out and gather lots of thistledown
to make new quilts."
Matilda was almost glowing with
excitement.
"Imagine me having my very
own place," She murmured dreamily, "I've never had
anything like that before."
"You could invite me round
for tea,"
Suggested Millie, "Or supper, or something."
Matilda suddenly looked a little
uncertain.
"But I can't cook," She
said.
"That's no problem," Said
Millie breezily,
"Mrs Katie could show you how to bake cakes and things."
Matilda looked up at Mrs Katie.
"Could you?" She asked, "Really?"
Mrs Katie smiled.
"Just so long as you don't
leave wet paw prints in the flour."
Millie reached out and took Matilda's
hand.
"Come on," She said, "Let's
go down to my place and see what we can find there for you
to sleep in tonight."
Mrs Katie watched as the two mice scampered
off through the snow. It was strange, she thought, how empty
the farmhouse had seemed since the last mice had moved out. The
sound of little paws was comforting during the evening when she
was knitting, and she missed them when they weren't there. Something
told her that she and Matilda would get along just fine.
Mrs Katie turned and went back
into the welcoming warmth of her kitchen. It would be nice, she
thought, to have another little mouse in the house.
The End
Come back soon!
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