"Just the top of my body," said Ruffie with pathetic pride as he placed his small hands across his waist, "is quite all right, isn't it? And with this shawl covering me up, you might think I was all right all through. But Steppie says that I'm like a treasure cupboard, where the best things are on the top shelves. She says some little boys have their legs all right, but their heads are no good to them. And so I'm glad God took extra pains with my head. I'm not very clever really, but I'm going to be a painter when I grow up, and I've got a notebook where I write down the pictures that I shall paint when I'm a man. Steppie is going to find some one to teach me drawing and painting properly. Would you like to hear a few names of my pictures?" "Very much." Ruffie produced out of his jacket pocket rather a dirty and well-worn little notebook. Then he began reading: "The Fells on Fire." "Dad being carried by Angels to Heaven when he's very old." "An Arab Steed chasing a Tiger." "A big War in the Air." "A Fairies' Wedding on the Lake." "The Garden of Eden." "A Puppies' Tea Party." He paused. "I think your ambition is great," said the lady, looking at him with a smile, "but I have always heard that artists' souls soar beyond their brushes." Ruffie would have this explained to him. Then he said: "I dream of pictures in the night. And then I put down the names in the morning. Did you ever play leapfrog with Dad when he was a little boy?" "I don't remember." "Did you go to his house, and he come to yours?" "No," said the lady, a grim look coming over her face. "We won't talk about those times any more. Do Josie and Georgie want to paint pictures like you?" "Oh, no, indeed." Ruffie laughed merrily. "Georgie is going to write books when she grows up. She says she'll have read all there is to read by that time, and she'll want some more, so she'll make them herself. And Josie is going to play to the King and Queen at Buckingham Palace, and have nosegays of flowers flung at her for doing it." Conversation did not languish between the two. When Anstice returned, she found them on a very friendly footing. She had sent a farm boy off post-haste for a car, and it actually arrived at the same time that the chauffeur appeared with a blacksmith. The lady did not wait till her car was repaired. She took the hired car, and did not pursue her journey. "I shall be glad to get home," she said. Then she turned to Anstice very graciously: "I am glad to have met you, and as for this small Rufus, I should like to run off with him, for he's the best company I have had for many a long day." "Where do you live?" Ruffie asked her. "A long way off from you," she said, "and I don't think we shall meet again. It is not very probable." "But wouldn't you like to see Dad now he's grown-up?" Ruffie asked.