you turn down a few steps, and turn again at the baker's. Then, a
little way further on, you strike into the lane."

"That's it, is it? I know. But do you know what sort of people live up
that way?"

"Yes."

"Well, there's another thing you _don't_ know, and that's the mud.
You'd never have got out again, if you had gone to Lilac Lane to-day.
It is three feet deep; and it weighs twenty pounds a foot. After you
set your shoe in it, you want a windlass to get it out again."

"What is a windlass?" Matilda asked.

"Don't you know? Well, you _are_ a girl; but you are a brick. I'll
teach you about a windlass, and lots of things."

"I shouldn't think you would want to teach me, _because_ I am a girl,"
said Matilda.

They had reached the iron gate of Mrs. Laval's domain, walking fast as
they had talked; and in answer to Matilda's last remark, Norton opened
the gate for her, and took off his cap with an air as he held it for
her to pass in. Matilda looked, smiled, and stepped past him.

"You are not like any boy I ever saw," she remarked, when he had
recovered his cap and his place beside her.

"I hope you like me better than any one you ever saw?"

"Yes," said Matilda, "I do."

The boy's answer was to do what most boys are too shy or too proud for.
He put his arms round Matilda and gave her a hearty kiss. Matilda was
greatly surprised, and bridled a little, as if she thought Norton had
taken a liberty; but on the whole seemed to recognise the fact that
they were very good friends, and took this as a seal of it. Norton led
her into the house, got his croquet box, and brought her and it out
again to the little lawn before the door. Nobody else was visible. The
day was still, dry, and sunny, and though the grass was hardly green
yet and not shaven nor rolled nor anything that a croquet lawn ought to
be, still it would do, as Norton said, to look at. Matilda stood by and
listened intently, while he planted his hoops and showed his mallets,
and explained to her the initial mysteries of the game. They even tried
how it would go; and there was no doubt of one thing, the time went
almost as fast as the croquet balls.

"I must run home, Norton," Matilda said at last.

"Why? I don't think so."

"I know I must."

"Well, do you like it?" He meant the game.

"Oh, it's delightful!" was Matilda's honest exclamation. Norton pushed
back his cap and looked at her, pleased on his part. It came into
Matilda's head that she ou