"I don't know," said the boy slowly. "I think sometimes----" But she was off on another scent. "What are you going to be when you grow up?" "Ah!"--with animation. "I'm going to be a big man." "You can't make yourself that. You're not very big now." "I've not done growing yet, and I'm very strong, and I've never been ill in my life. Besides----" "I've just had measles and whooping-cough. That's why I'm here." He nodded, as much as to say, "Yes, that's just the kind of thing girls would have"; and went on, "And then I'm going to be an explorer." "O-o-o-h!" with snapping eyes. "Where?" "I don't know where. Anywhere where nobody's ever been before." She devoured him with hungry appreciation. His face was so very clean, so radiantly bright, and the sparks in his blue eyes kindled answering sparks in her own. For she too possessed a lively imagination, and a spirit many times the size of her body. "But will you be able to? Are you very rich?" "Rich? No, I'm not rich, but I'm not that poor either--not just now. I bought this last week," with a touch of superior pride, as he hauled out a Latin grammar, sixth-hand, but still boasting covers. "When I've finished it I'll feel poor till I get the next. But that's not yet." "Wouldn't you like to be very rich?" "I d'n' know. I never tried it." "My father is very rich." "Is he? And what are you going to do when you grow up?" "Oh, I'm going to be a lady." "Yes, that's about all you can be, I suppose," he nodded, and looked really sorry for her. "I shall be very rich, and I shall do just what I like--except darning and needlework. They're hijjus!" "Hideous," he said, with a touch of pedantic reproof which consorted oddly with his jacket and trousers. "I always say 'hijjus' when it's quite too awful and past words. How would you like to be a manager of one of my father's mills?" "I don't know," he said, regarding her doubtfully. "I'm thinking perhaps I wouldn't make a very good manager. Not yet." Then her hand happened to touch her pocket, which reminded her of her lunch. "Are you hungry?" she asked. "I'll sit down here and you shall have some of my lunch, and you shall tell me the names of all those hills and lochs opposite. Aren't they splendid?" "Ay, they're grand. I've been watching them for a year now." She wrestled her dainty little packet out of her pocket, and sat down on a rock looking out over the wonderful panorama in front. The boy sat down on another rock and hauled out a piece of newspaper in which were wrapped some broken pieces of thick oatcake and some rough fragments of cheese. "Do you like oatcake and cheese?" she asked. "Rather!" "Won't you have some of my sandwiches?" she said politely, but not without anxiety. He looked at the delicate provision, and said stoutly-- "No, thank you. I like this best."