d then, thinking my time had come, I
tried to approach my subject. Being such a clever little woman I went
artfully to work, speaking first about my father, my mother, my cousin,
Nessy MacLeod, and even Aunt Bridget, with the intention of showing how
rich I was in relations, so that he might see how poor he was himself.

I felt myself a bit of a hypocrite in all this, but the doctor's boy did
not know that, and I noticed that as I passed my people in review he
only said "Is she any good?" or "Is he a stunner?"

At length my great moment came and with a fluttering heart I took it.

"Haven't you got a sister?" I said.

"Not _me_!" said the doctor's boy, with a dig of emphasis on the last
word which cut me to the quick.

"Wouldn't you like to have one?"

"Sisters isn't no good," said the doctor's boy, and he instanced "chaps"
at school--Jimmy Christopher and others--whose sisters were afraid of
everything--lobsters and crabs and even the sea.

I knew I was as timid as a hare myself, but my lonely little heart was
beginning to bleed, and as well as I could for my throat which was
choking me, I said:

"I'm not afraid of the sea--not crabs neither."

In a moment the big mushroom hat was tipped aside and the sea-blue eyes
looked aslant at me.

"Isn't you, though?"

"No."

That did it. I could see it did. And when a minute afterwards, I invited
the doctor's boy into bed, he came in, stockings and all, and sat by my
right side, while William Rufus, who had formed an instant attachment
for me, lay on my left with his muzzle on my lap.

Later the same day, my bedroom door being open, so that I might call
downstairs to the kitchen, I heard the doctor's boy telling his mother
what I was. I was a "stunner."

EIGHTH CHAPTER

From that day forward the doctor's boy considered that I belonged to
him, but not until I was sent to school, with my cousin and her
stepsister, did he feel called upon to claim his property.

It was a mixed day-school in the village, and it was controlled by a
Board which had the village butcher as its chairman. The only teacher
was a tall woman of thirty, who plaited her hair, which was of the
colour of flax, into a ridiculous-looking crown on the top of her head.
But her expression, I remember, was one of perpetual severity, and when
she spoke through her thin lips she clipped her words with great
rapidity, as if they had been rolls of bread which were being chopped in
a charity sch