ck. Still she seemed to me almost a grown-up lady.

I am afraid her first impression of _me_ must have been that I was
extremely stupid. For I went on staring at her for a moment or two
before I answered. She was indeed opening her lips to repeat the
question when I at last found my voice.

'I don't know,' I said. And if she did not think me stupid before I
spoke, she certainly must have done so when I did.

'I don't know,' I repeated, considering over what her question exactly
meant. 'No, I don't think it was fetching you. I was to ask you--would
you like to walk round our garden? And p'raps--your mamma was going to
tell me all your names, but grandmamma told me to run away. I'd like to
know your sisters that are as little as me's names.'

I remember exactly what I said, for Sharley has often told me since how
difficult it was for her not to burst out laughing at the funny way I
spoke. But tomboy though she was in some respects, she had a very tender
heart, and like her mother she was quick at understanding. So she
answered quite soberly--

'Thank you. I should like very much to walk round your garden--though
running would be even nicer. I'm not very fond of walking if I can run,
and you have got such jolly steep paths and banks.'

I eyed the steep paths doubtfully.

'You hurt yourself a good deal if you run too fast down the paths,' I
said. 'The stones are so sharp.'

Sharley laughed.

'You speak from experience,' she said. 'That grass bank would be lovely
for tobogganing.'

'I don't know what that is,' I replied.

'We'll show you if you come to see us at home,' she said. 'But I suppose
I'd better not try anything like that to-day. You want to know my
sisters' names? They are Anna and Valetta and Baby----'

'Never mind about Baby,' I interrupted, rather abruptly, I fear. 'How
big is Anna, and--the other one?'

Sharley stood still and looked me well over.

'Do you really mean "big"?' she said, 'or "old"? Anna is nine and Val is
six; but as for bigness--Anna is nearly as tall as I am, and Val is a
good bit bigger than you.'

I felt and looked nearly ready to cry.

'And I'm past seven,' I said, 'I wish I wasn't so little. It's like
being a baby, and I don't care for babies.'

'Never mind,' replied Sharley consolingly, 'you needn't be at all
babyish because you're little. One of our boys is very little, but he's
not a bit of a baby. I'm sure Val will like to play with you, and so
will Anna--and all o