'I wish they wouldn't run races,' thought the little girl. 'They're so big compared with me--they've such much longer legs. I shan't like Seacove if they're going always to run races. In London they couldn't in the streets; it was only when we went in the gardens, and that wasn't every day, it was too far to go. I wish I had a brother or a sister littler than me; it's too much difference between Alie and me, thirteen and eight. I wish----' But here came a whoop from behind. 'Off, Biddy; look sharp--one, two, three.' Poor Biddy--off she set as fast as she _could_ go, which is not saying much. She puffed and panted, for she was not without a spirit of her own and did not want to be overtaken _too_ soon. And for a time Rough's cries of encouragement, 'Gee-up, old woman,' 'Famous, Biddy,' 'You'll win yet,' and so on, spurred her to fresh exertions. But not for long; she felt her powers flagging, and as first Alie and then Rough, both apparently as fresh as ever, passed her at full speed, she gave in. 'It's no use. I can't run races. I wish you wouldn't make me,' she said, as in a minute or two the two others came flying back again to where she stood, a convenient goal for their return race. 'But you ran splendidly for a bit,' said Randolph; 'and I'll tell you what, Biddy, it would be a very good thing for you to run a good deal more than you do. It'll make you grow and stop you getting too fat.' 'I'm not fatter than you were when you were as little as me, Roughie. Nurse says so--you were a regular roundabout till you had the measles; mamma says so too,' replied Bridget philosophically. 'I'm quite hot,' said Rosalys; 'fancy being hot in January! But we'd better not stand still or we'll get a chill. Isn't it nice to come out alone? I'd like to walk to Seacove--I want to see what it's like, but of course we mustn't go so far. Mamma said we must stay on the shore.' 'If it was summer we might dig and make sand-castles,' said Biddy regretfully. Digging in the sand was an amusement much more to her taste than running races. 'I think that's stupid--it's such baby play,' Rosalys replied. 'But come on, do. I'm going to climb up to the top of that bank--that's the sand-hills papa was speaking about.'