when your
hair's _kite_ grey, and I would marry you if you like when I'm big, only
I've promised to marry Floss."

"Oh you funny little Carrots," said Floss. "But, nurse," she went on,
"what did Janet's mamma do with the hair when she had spun it?"

"She knitted it into a pair of stockings for Master Hughie," said nurse;
"but they weren't much use. They were well enough to look at, but no
mortal boy could have worn them without his legs being skinned, they
_were_ so pricky."

"And what became of Caesar?" said Floss. "Did his hair ever grow again?"

"Oh yes," said nurse, "in time it did, though I believe it never again
looked quite so silky and nice. But Caesar lived to a good old age, for
all that. He didn't catch cold, for my lady made mother make him a coat
of a bit of soft warm cloth, which he wore for some time."

"How funny he must have looked," said Floss.

"What are you talking about?" said a voice behind her, and turning
round, Floss saw Cecil, who had come into the room without their hearing
her.

"About a doggie," answered Carrots. "Oh, Cis, nurse has been telling us
such a lubly story about a doggie. Nursie, dear, won't you tell us
another to-morrow?"

"My stories are all worn out, my dear," said nurse, shaking her head.

"Couldn't _you_ tell us one, Cis?" said Carrots.

"Make up one, do you mean?" said Cecil. "No, indeed, I'm sure I never
could. Are they always at you to tell them stories, nurse? If so, I pity
you."

"Poor little things," said nurse, "it's dull for them these wet days,
Miss Cecil, and Master Carrots' cold has been bad."

Cecil looked at her little brother's pale face as he sat nestling in
nurse's arms, and a queer new feeling of compunction seized her.

"I couldn't _tell_ you a story," she said; "but if you like, the first
afternoon it's rainy, and you can't go out, I'll _read_ you one. Miss
Barclay lent me a funny old-fashioned little book the other day, and
some of the stories in it are fairy ones. Would you like that, Carrots?"

Floss clapped her hands, and Carrots slid down from nurse's knee, and
coming quietly up to Cecil, threw his arms round her neck, and gave her
a kiss.

"I hope it'll rain to-morrow," he said, gravely.

"It _is_ kind of Miss Cecil," said nurse; and as Cecil left the nursery
she added to herself, "it will be a comfort to her mother if she begins
to take thought for the little ones, and I've always felt sure it was in
her to do so, if only she cou