"If you please, miss, I’d rather you’d kiss me if you will," said Jane-Anne humbly. "I’d like to think anything so pretty as you had kissed me." There was something so wistful and pathetic in the pale face that gazed so longingly into her own that little Herrick’s warm heart was touched and she flung her arms round Jane-Anne’s neck and kissed her heartily. "Thank you," said Jane-Anne as she rose up to her feet. "I shall never forget it, never." "Now I," interposed Edmund, who had looked on with astounded disapprobation at this display of sentiment, "I should loathe and abominate anyone who kissed me and I should try to forget it as soon as ever I could." "So should I," Montagu agreed, "rather—but I suppose girls are different." "Course they are," Herrick chimed in; "quite different and much better and more precious. Daddie says so." This point of view did not appeal to the boys. "I don’t know about ’precious,’" Edmund said scornfully. "It depends what you mean by precious." "_I’m_ precious," Herrick explained, "very, very precious. That’s why they were so afraid they’d lost me this morning, ’cause I’m so precious." "I’m not," said Jane-Anne. "Female orphans never are so far as I can make out, but I’d like to be. Oh, it would be lovelly!" Herrick had been staring hard at Jane-Anne for some minutes and at last could contain herself no longer. "Why," she demanded, "do you wear such a funny hat? Do you like it?" "Why d’you wear no hat at all?" Montagu interposed, vaguely aware that Herrick’s question was not tactful. "I wear a bonnet generally," Herrick remarked with dignity, "but I came out without it this morning ’cause they were in such a hurry. D’you like my smock?" she asked, turning to Jane-Anne. "Mummy made it." "I like everything about you," Jane-Anne answered, with commendable enthusiasm. "I think you’re a dear darling, and I hate all my clothes, but I can’t go about without any because people would stare, beside it’s generally too cold." And though the sun was shining hot on the lawn, Jane-Anne shivered. Montagu looked at his watch. "We’ll have to go and get ready," he said. "We’re all going on the river this morning—they’re going away this afternoon—and I promised to take her back to the hotel at half-past ten to have her face washed. I wish you were coming too," he added kindly, "but it’s not our party." "Good-bye, little girl," said Herrick, "and I hope you’ll soon have a nicer hat, a really pretty one." And again Herrick kissed Jane-Anne. "I’ll let you out at the garden door," said Edmund, "then we shan’t run into Mrs. Dew." Quite silently Jane-Anne followed him to the end of the garden where there was a door in the wall. It was seldom used and the key was stiff, but by great efforts with both hands, Edmund managed to turn it. "Come again, soon," he said hospitably, "and we’ll have some more cricket."