s room again!" she
retorted.

"You'll have to if I want you," said Colin.

"I won't!" said Mary.

"I'll make you," said Colin. "They shall drag you in."

"Shall they, Mr. Rajah!" said Mary fiercely. "They may drag me in but
they can't make me talk when they get me here. I'll sit and clench my
teeth and never tell you one thing. I won't even look at you. I'll
stare at the floor!"

They were a nice agreeable pair as they glared at each other. If they
had been two little street boys they would have sprung at each other
and had a rough-and-tumble fight. As it was, they did the next thing
to it.

"You are a selfish thing!" cried Colin.

"What are you?" said Mary. "Selfish people always say that. Any one
is selfish who doesn't do what they want. You're more selfish than I
am. You're the most selfish boy I ever saw."

"I'm not!" snapped Colin. "I'm not as selfish as your fine Dickon is!
He keeps you playing in the dirt when he knows I am all by myself.
He's selfish, if you like!"

Mary's eyes flashed fire.

"He's nicer than any other boy that ever lived!" she said. "He's--he's
like an angel!" It might sound rather silly to say that but she did not
care.

"A nice angel!" Colin sneered ferociously. "He's a common cottage boy
off the moor!"

"He's better than a common Rajah!" retorted Mary. "He's a thousand
times better!"

Because she was the stronger of the two she was beginning to get the
better of him. The truth was that he had never had a fight with any
one like himself in his life and, upon the whole, it was rather good
for him, though neither he nor Mary knew anything about that. He
turned his head on his pillow and shut his eyes and a big tear was
squeezed out and ran down his cheek. He was beginning to feel pathetic
and sorry for himself--not for any one else.

"I'm not as selfish as you, because I'm always ill, and I'm sure there
is a lump coming on my back," he said. "And I am going to die besides."

"You're not!" contradicted Mary unsympathetically.

He opened his eyes quite wide with indignation. He had never heard
such a thing said before. He was at once furious and slightly pleased,
if a person could be both at one time.

"I'm not?" he cried. "I am! You know I am! Everybody says so."

"I don't believe it!" said Mary sourly. "You just say that to make
people sorry. I believe you're proud of it. I don't believe it! If
you were a nice boy it might be true--but you're to