er as the living embodiment of courage. So she merely laid the
blame on the dim light of the cellar.

The consequence of this was, that when John next found himself alone
with Betty he began to grumble.

"It's all very well for Madge to say she didn't see the threepenny
bit," he said, "but I think she ought to have stayed there looking
until she did see it. She can see things very well when she tries. I
don't believe she took any trouble about it, because it belonged to us."

"But part of it belonged to her," objected Betty.

"Only one part," said John persistently, "and two parts belonged to us.
So of course it was more ours than hers, and that's why she didn't
trouble to look for it."

"Do you think so really?" said Betty in an irresolute tone. She had
great faith in Madge always acting for the best, but these new
arguments were rather disturbing.

"I'll tell you what it is," continued John. "Madge thinks herself a
much grander person than we are, because she is a little older. And it
isn't fair. Lewis said he wouldn't be ordered about by her if he were
in my place, and I won't either. After all, she is only a girl!"

After this remark the conversation became rather quarrelsome. Betty
objected to the expression, "only a girl", and retorted by some very
rude remarks about boys in general and her brother in particular. She
reminded him with unpleasant emphasis of how slow he was at climbing
trees compared with Madge, and she dwelt with more truth than
politeness on the fact that he had once grown giddy on the roof of the
cow-house, and had to be ignominiously helped down by his sisters. But
in the long run John's solid persistency got the best of it, and in
spite of Betty's wish to believe that Madge always acted for the best,
she was gradually talked over into thinking that there was some real
grievance in her elder sister always taking the lead.

Whenever Lewis Brand had an opportunity of talking to the twins by
themselves he mischievously encouraged this idea, so that disagreements
among the children became a matter of everyday occurrence.

CHAPTER XIX.

AN INTERESTING DITCH.

If a stranger had happened to meet Madge, Betty, and John one fine
Saturday afternoon a few weeks later in the summer, he would probably
have imagined that they were hurrying to the sea-side. It was
certainly an odd way to get there, across the fields and through a
grove of beech-trees; but where else could they b