y train and the rest must dance round me. I'm
going to have a crown and--" She turned round in order to avoid the
scowling gaze of William in the distance. William had discovered that
his scowl annoyed her, and since then had given it little rest. But
there was no satisfaction in scowling at the back of her well-curled
head, so he relaxed his scowl and let his gaze wander round the
playground. And it fell upon Bettine. Bettine was also standing by
herself and gazing at Evangeline Fish. But she was not scowling. She
was looking at Evangeline Fish with wistful envy. For Evangeline Fish
was "angelic" and a May Queen, and she was neither of these things.
William strolled over and lolled against the wall next to her.

"'Ullo!" he said, without looking at her, for this change of position
had brought him again within range of Evangeline Fish's eye, and he
was once more simply one concentrated scowl.

"'Ullo," murmured Bettine shyly and politely.

"You like pink rock?" was William's next effort.

"Um," said Bettine, nodding emphatically.

"I'll give you some next time I buy some," said William munificently,
"but I shan't be buying any for a long time," he added bitterly,
"'cause an ole ball slipped out my hands on to our dining-room window
before I noticed it yesterday."

She nodded understandingly.

"I don't mind!" she said sweetly. "I'll like you jus' as much if you
don't ever give me any rock."

William blushed.

"I di'n't know you liked me," he said.

"I do," she said fervently. "I like your face an' I like the things
you say."

William had forgotten to scowl. He was one flaming mixture of
embarrassment and delight. He plunged his hands into his pockets and
brought out two marbles, a piece of clay, and a broken toy gun.

"You can have 'em all," he said in reckless generosity.

"You keep 'em for me," said Bettine sweetly.

"I hope you dance next me at the Maypole when Evangeline's Queen.
Won't it be lovely?" and she sighed.

"Lovely?" exploded William. "Huh!"

"Won't you like it?" said Bettine wonderingly.

"_Me!_" exploded William again. "Dancin' round a pole! Round that ole
girl?"

"But she's so pretty."

"No, she isn't," said William firmly, "she jus' isn't. Not _much_! I
don' like her narsy shiny hair an' I don' like her narsy blue clothes,
an' I don' like her narsy face, an' I don' like her narsy white shoes,
nor her narsy necklaces, nor her narsy squeaky voice----"

He paused.

Bettine drew