not
even see them. The interest and curiosity in Mistress Mary's face
delighted her, and she went on skipping and counted as she skipped
until she had reached a hundred.

"I could skip longer than that," she said when she stopped. "I've
skipped as much as five hundred when I was twelve, but I wasn't as fat
then as I am now, an' I was in practice."

Mary got up from her chair beginning to feel excited herself.

"It looks nice," she said. "Your mother is a kind woman. Do you think I
could ever skip like that?"

"You just try it," urged Martha, handing her the skipping-rope. "You
can't skip a hundred at first, but if you practise you'll mount up.
That's what mother said. She says, 'Nothin' will do her more good than
skippin' rope. It's th' sensiblest toy a child can have. Let her play
out in th' fresh air skippin' an' it'll stretch her legs an' arms an'
give her some strength in 'em.'"

It was plain that there was not a great deal of strength in Mistress
Mary's arms and legs when she first began to skip. She was not very
clever at it, but she liked it so much that she did not want to stop.

"Put on tha' things and run an' skip out o' doors," said Martha. "Mother
said I must tell you to keep out o' doors as much as you could, even
when it rains a bit, so as tha' wrap up warm."

Mary put on her coat and hat and took her skipping-rope over her arm.
She opened the door to go out, and then suddenly thought of something
and turned back rather slowly.

"Martha," she said, "they were your wages. It was your twopence really.
Thank you." She said it stiffly because she was not used to thanking
people or noticing that they did things for her. "Thank you," she said,
and held out her hand because she did not know what else to do.

Martha gave her hand a clumsy little shake, as if she was not accustomed
to this sort of thing either. Then she laughed.

"Eh! tha' art a queer, old-womanish thing," she said. "If tha'd been our
'Lizabeth Ellen tha'd have give me a kiss."

Mary looked stiffer than ever.

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

Martha laughed again.

"Nay, not me," she answered. "If tha' was different, p'raps tha'd want
to thysel'. But tha' isn't. Run off outside an' play with thy rope."

Mistress Mary felt a little awkward as she went out of the room.
Yorkshire people seemed strange, and Martha was always rather a puzzle
to her. At first she had disliked her very much, but now she did not.

The skipping-rope was a