te."

"Are we? And are you in a hurry, Robbie? because if you are you'd better
fetch the milk yourself another time. Duncan and I are not your
servants," Elsie replied, loftily.

Robbie stared, as well he might. "I only know mother's very cross," he
reiterated dubiously, as if not quite knowing what to say; "and I don't
think you know how late it is."

"Look here," cried Elsie, standing stock still: "suppose I tip this milk
over on to the heather, what'ud you say to that?" and she lifted up the
lid, and tilted the can, until the foaming white milk was just ready to
pour over the side.

"Oh! Elsie, Elsie, what are you doing?" cried Duncan, in a panic; while
Robbie exclaimed, "Wouldn't mother make you go back and fetch some more,
Elsie, with the pennies out of your box?"

Perhaps Elsie thought it might be so. Any way, she put the can straight,
and moved on again, but as she did so she said to Robbie, "You'd like to
tell mother what I said, wouldn't you, duckie? So you can if you like; I
don't care what you tell mother."

"No, I don't want to tell," Robbie said, almost angrily, with a pink
face and a moist look in the eyes.

As the three children walked along you could hardly help noticing what a
difference there was between the two elder and Robbie. Elsie and Duncan
were big-limbed, ruddy-cheeked children, with high cheek-bones,
fair-skinned, but well freckled and tanned by the sun. Their younger
brother was like them, and yet so different. His skin was fair, but of
milky whiteness, showing too clearly the blue veins underneath it. The
ruddy colour in their faces was in his represented by the palest tinge
of pink. His bare arms were soft and white and thin. Their abundant
straw-coloured hair had in his case become palest gold, of silky
texture, falling in curling locks almost on to his shoulders. He was, in
short, a smaller, weaker, more delicate edition of these two elder ones.
They looked the very embodiment of health and strength, he fragile,
timid, and delicate. No wonder he never scampered across the heath or
rolled down the hillsides. The mists were too chilly for him, the sun
too hot; and so it came about that Elsie and Duncan went together, and
Robbie was left behind, for Elsie was selfish, and hadn't it in her
nature to wait about for the little one, and suit her steps or her play
to his, and Duncan did whatever she did. Perhaps their mother did not
care to trust the little fellow with Elsie, knowing too