She smiled again. "You are not very polite, are you? But I don't mind telling you if you want to know. My name is Juliet Moore. Now tell me yours!" He looked at her doubtfully. "Juliet is a name out of a book," he said. She laughed, a low, soft laugh that woke an answering glimmer of amusement in his sullen face. "How clever of you to know that!" she said. "No, I'm not clever." Tersely he contradicted her. "Old Swag at The Three Tuns says I'm the village idiot." "What a horrid old man!" she exclaimed almost involuntarily. He nodded his heavy head. "Yes, I knocked him down the other day, and kicked him for it. Dicky caned me afterwards,--I'm not supposed to go to The Three Tuns--but I was glad I'd done it all the same." "Well, who is Dicky?" she asked again. Her interest was growing. He glared at her with sudden suspicion. "What do you want to know for?" "Because I think he must be rather a brave man," she said. The suspicion vanished. His eyes shown. "Oh, Dicky isn't afraid of anything," he declared with pride. "He's my brother. He knows--heaps of things. He's a man." "You are fond of him," said Juliet, with her friendly smile. The boy's face lighted up. "He's the only person I love in the world," he said, "except Mrs. Rickett's baby." "Mrs. Rickett's baby!" She checked a quick desire to laugh that caught her unawares. "You are fond of babies then?" "No, I'm not. I like dogs. I don't like babies--except Mrs. Rickett's and he's such a jolly little cuss." He smiled over the words, and again she felt a deep compassion. Somehow his face seemed almost sadder when he smiled. "I am staying with Mrs. Rickett," she said. "But I only came yesterday, and I haven't made the baby's acquaintance yet. I must get myself introduced. You haven't told me your name yet, you know. Mayn't I hear what it is? I've told you mine." He looked at her with renewed suspicion. "Hasn't anybody told you about Me yet?" he said. "No, of course not. Why, I don't know anybody except Mr. and Mrs. Rickett. And it's much more interesting to hear it from yourself." "Is it?" He hesitated a little longer, but was finally disarmed by the kindness of her smile. "My name is Robin." "Oh, that's a nice name," Juliet said. "And you live here? What do you do all day?" "I don't know," he said vaguely. "I can mend fishing-nets, and I can help Dicky in the garden. And I look after Mrs. Rickett's baby sometimes when she's busy. What do you do?" suddenly resuming his attitude of suspicion. She made a slight gesture of the hands. "Nothing at all worth doing, I am afraid," she said. "I can't mend nets. I don't garden. And I've never looked after a baby in my life." He stared at her. "Where do you come from?" he asked curiously. "From London." She met his curiosity with absolute candour. "And I'm tired of it. I'm very tired of it. So I've come here for a change. I'm going to like this much better." "Better than London!" He gazed, incredulous.