“Put your foot on my boot, then, and I can reach you,” he returned; and as Hannah lifted him up, not without difficulty, he threw his arm round him, and kept him steady. “Now, then, hold tight; we must overtake the others,” I heard him say, and they were soon out of sight. “It must be werry nice to be Rolf,” sighed Joyce, enviously, as Hannah wheeled her up the dusty road. I think we were all glad when we had reached the cool nursery, and found a plentiful tea spread on the round table. The children were so sleepy that we were obliged to put them to bed as soon as they had finished their tea. Rolf did not make his appearance until later, and then he burst into the room with his arms full of paper and string, and we were very soon hard at work on the window-seat, constructing the tail for his kite. He was in high spirits, and talked volubly all the time. “I told mother about bread and salt,” he began, “and she liked the idea very much. She made me repeat it again to grandpapa, and he patted me on the head, and gave me half-a-crown. When grandpapa is pleased about anything he always gives people half-a-crown. I think he ought to give you one, Fenny. Do you mind my calling you Fenny? it sounds so nice, rather like funny, and you are so funny sometimes.” “It sounds much more like Fanny,” I returned. “Oh, do you think so? I will ask Aunt Gay what she thinks. Aunt Gay is so fond of you, she told me so to-day, only she said it was a secret, so you must keep it. I told Mr. Hawtry the story about the robber servant this evening after dinner, and he said that he was a plucky fellow, in spite of his being a robber; and so I think. Do you like Mr. Hawtry, Fenny?” “I do not know him, dear.” “Oh, no, of course, you are only a nurse, and so you don’t come in the drawing-room like other people; you would not know how to behave, would you? Mr. Hawtry said something about you this evening. Mother was talking to him, you know how, only I can’t tell you—bread and salt, you know,” and here Rolf looked excessively solemn; “and Mr. Hawtry said—no, don’t stop me, it is nothing bad, nothing like mother; oh, dear, it will come out, I know—he only said, ‘She seems a very quiet, well-conducted young person, and not at all above her duties,’ for you were carrying Reggie, you know.” “Oh, Rolf, do hold your tongue,” I exclaimed, crossly, for this was too much for my forbearance. What business had Mrs. Markham to talk me over with strangers? I ought to have stopped Rolf, but my curiosity was too strong at that moment. “A quiet, well-conducted young person,” indeed. I felt in a fever of indignation. Rolf looked up from his kite with some surprise. “Does talking disturb you? We are getting on beautifully. What a lovely tail my kite will have!” Then, as though a thought struck him, “Are you ever cross, Fenny; really cross, I mean?” “Yes, very often, Rolf,” for being a fairly conscientious person, I could not deny my faults of temper.