ing young, ain't you?" she asked. "Come
here and tell me why you 'like it.'"

Bobby went, nothing loath. He was not at all a shy child, though he was
very reserved as a rule.

Sophy could not have said why she was surprised and rather disappointed
at the evident fancy which he had taken to Belinda Horton. She did not
divine that even the seven-year-old man vibrated to the spell of
Belinda's surcharged femininity.

Bobby lounged against the girl's knee and stared up into her face out of
sober, dark-grey eyes.

"Well?" said Belinda, taking his chin in her strong fingers and shaking
it slightly. "_Why_ do you like it?"

"'Cause you're beautiful," said he boldly.

Belinda laughed, ran her hand the "wrong way" over his face, and picking
up a lump of sugar, pressed it between his willing lips.

"There!" she said. "If you were older, 'twould be a kiss--but I believe
little boys don't think kisses as sweet as sugar."

"I think _yours_ would be," he returned promptly, having tucked away the
lump of sugar in his cheek.

"Bobby!" called his mother. "Don't be forward...."

"Oh, don't snub him ... please," Belinda said. "He's not 'forward'--but
he's going to be a dreadful flirt. My! young man, but you're going to
lead the girls a dance when you know how--ain't you?"

"I know how to dance now," said Bobby.

"You do, hey? Well, you shall dance with me some time. Would you like
that?"

"Ra-_ther_!"

Sophy, however, didn't at all like this unusual, bold-eyed Bobby who was
lolling against a stranger's knee as though they had been intimate for
years, and "giving her as good as she sent." She cast a meaning glance
at young Grey, who had just finished his cup of tea. He rose obediently,
though he felt the deepest sympathy with Bobby.

"Time for your boxing lesson, Bobby," he said.

Bobby pressed closer to Belinda. He looked at his mother.

"Couldn't I stay a _little_ longer, mother?" he pleaded. "'Cause Cousin
Belinda's just come?"

Sophy didn't want to appear a prig. She glanced again at Harold Grey.

"You must ask Mr. Grey," she said.

"Mr. Grey" was between two fires. He said somewhat lamely:

"I'm sure Miss Horton will excuse you, Bobby. He has his boxing lesson
and his history to prepare for to-morrow," he added, in explanation.

Belinda smiled this time--it was a discreet smile, but disclosed a
dimple in the cheek next "Mr. Grey."

"Hard lines, Bobby!" she murmured. "I think I _must_ be nicer than
boxing