to the various playgrounds in the woods; she could climb
well, and run swiftly, and had such a daring spirit of adventure that
she feared nothing. In fact, her presence made everything so much more
interesting, that, by common consent, she was allowed to take the lead,
and no expedition was considered complete without her. Perhaps her
contrast to the good, quiet, brown Agatha, who was so nearly her own
age, made her all the more valued. Agatha was always ready to follow,
to give up, to yield. She never tore her frocks, always knew her
lessons, was always punctual; but she never invented anything, and had
to be told exactly what to say in any game requiring imagination. So it
came to pass naturally that Mary was at the head of everything, and she
became so used to taking the command that she sometimes did so when it
was neither convenient nor becoming. There were indeed moments when
even Jackie, her most faithful supporter among the Chelwood children,
rebelled against her authority, and found it poor fun for Mary always to
have her own way and arrange everything.

Jackie was nine years old, and felt in himself a large capacity for
taking the lead: after all, why _should_ Mary always drive when they
went out in the donkey-cart, or settle the place for the fire to be made
when they had a picnic, and choose the games, and even order about
Fraulein Schnipp the governess? Certainly her plans and arrangements
always turned out well, but still it became tiresome sometimes. Jackie
grew restive. He had a quarrel with Mary, who flew down the garden in a
rage, her hair streaming behind her like the tail of an angry comet.
But it did not last: Jackie had a forgiving spirit, and was too fond of
her to be angry long. He was always the first to make up a dispute, so
that Mary was not at all surprised to see him soon afterwards waiting
outside the vicarage door in a high state of excitement. He was going
to drive with father in the dog-cart to Dorminster--might Mary come too?
Consent given, Mary lost no time in throwing on a hat and jacket, while
Squire Chelwood's tall horse fretted and caught impatiently at his bit:
then she was lifted up to Jackie on the back seat, and they were soon
rolling quickly on their way. It was good of Jackie to have asked for
her to go, Mary thought, after she had been so cross. She could not
have done it in his place, and she determined to give him a very
handsome present on his birthday, which