But as she talked she was vaguely aware that her words passed by the child’s ears as the summer wind passed. Perhaps it was all a bit of temper and would disappear and leave no trace behind. At the same time, there _was_ something queer about the little thing. She had a listless way of sitting staring out of the window and seeming to have no desire to amuse herself. She was too young to be listless and she did not care for her food. Dowson asked permission to send for the doctor and, when he came, he ordered sea air. “Of course, you can take her away for a few weeks,” Mrs. Gareth-Lawless said. Here she smiled satirically and added, “But I can tell you what it is all about. The little minx actually fell in love with a small boy she met in the Square Gardens and, when his mother took him from London, she began to mope like a tiresome girl in her teens. It’s ridiculous, but is the real trouble.” “Oh!” said Dowson, the low and respectful interjection expressing a shade of disapproval, “Children do have fancies, ma’am. She’ll get over it if we give her something else to think of.” The good woman went to one of the large toy shops and bought a beautiful doll, a doll’s house, and some picture books. When they were brought up to the Day Nursery, Robin was asleep after a rather long walk, which Dowson had decided would be good for her. When she came later into the room, after the things had been unpacked, she regarded them with an expression of actual dislike. “Isn’t that a beautiful doll?” said Dowson, good-humouredly. “And did you ever see such a lovely house? It was kind Lord Coombe who gave them to you. Just you look at the picture books.” Robin put her hands behind her back and would not touch them. Dowson, who was a motherly creature with a great deal of commonsense, was set thinking. She began to make guesses, though she was not yet sufficiently familiar with the household to guess from any firm foundation of knowledge of small things. “Come here, dear,” she said, and drew the small thing to her knee. “Is it because you don’t love Lord Coombe?” she asked. “Yes,” she answered. “But why?” said Dowson. “When he is such a kind gentleman?” But Robin would not tell her why and never did. She never told any one, until years had passed, how this had been the beginning of a hatred. The toys were left behind when she was taken to the seaside. Dowson tried to persuade her to play with them several times, but she would not touch them, so they were put away. Feeling that she was dealing with something unusual, and, being a kindly person, Dowson bought her some playthings on her own account. They were simple things, but Robin was ready enough to like them. “Did _you_ give them to me?” she asked. “Yes, I did, Miss Robin.” The child drew near her after a full minute of hesitation. “I will _kiss_ you!” she said solemnly, and performed the rite as whole-souledly as Donal had done.