'I never thought of him but as quite grown up,' returned Chriss, with a touch of stubbornness, arising from an uneasy and awakened conscience. 'How fond you are of Cain, Aunt Milly.' 'He is my example, my warning beacon, you see. He was the first-begotten of Envy, that eldest-born of Hell--a terrible incarnation of unresisted human passion. Had he first learned to restrain the beginnings of evil, it would not have overwhelmed him so completely. Possibly in their young, hard-working life he would have loved to be able to make Abel angry.' 'Aunt Milly!' Chrissy was shedding a few indignant tears now. 'Well, my dear?' 'It is too bad. You have no right to compare me with Cain,' sobbing vengefully. 'Did I do so? Nay, Chriss, I think you are mistaken.' 'First to be called a baby, and then a murderer!' 'Hush! hush!' 'I know I am wicked to try and make them angry, but they tease me so; they call me Contradiction, and the Barker, and Pugilist Pug, and lots of horrid names, and it was only like playing at war to get one's revenge.' 'Choose some fairer play, my little Chriss.' 'It is such miserable work trying to be proper and good; I don't think I've got the face for it either,' went on Chriss, a subtle spirit of fun drying up her tears again, as she examined her features curiously in Mildred's glass. 'I don't look as though I could be made good, do I, Aunt Milly'--frowning fiercely at herself--'not like a young Christian?' 'More like a long-haired kitten,' returned Mildred, quaintly. The epithet charmed Chriss into instant good-humour; for a moment she looked half inclined to hug Mildred, but the effort was too great for her shyness, so she contented herself with a look of appreciation. 'You can say funny things then--how nice! I thought you were so dreadfully solemn--worse than Cardie. Cardie could not say a funny thing to save his life, except when he is angry, and then, oh! he is droll,' finished incorrigible Chriss, as she followed her aunt downstairs, skipping three steps at a time. Richard met them in the hall, and eyed the pseudo-invalid a little dubiously. 'So you are better, eh, Chriss? That's right. I thought there was not much that ailed you after all,' in a tone rather amiable than unfeeling. 'Not much to you, you mean. Perhaps you don't mind having a log in your head,' began Chrissy, indignantly, but seeing visionary Cains in her aunt's glance, she checked herself. 'If I am better it is all thanks to Aunt Milly's nursing, but she spoilt everything at the last.' 'Why?' asked Richard, curiously, detecting a lurking smile at the corner of Mildred's mouth. 'Why, I had concocted a nice little plan for riling you--putting you in a towering passion, you know--by coming down looking like a singed pony, or like Polly, in fact; but she would not let me, took the scissors away, like the good aunt in a story-book.' 'What nonsense is she talking, Aunt Milly? She looks very nice, though quite different to Chrissy somehow.'