, with a red complexion. AS soon as their loud voices had
driven the governess away, the smaller of the two, who had a pronounced
squint, turned to Laura.

"Hullo, you kid," she said, "what's YOUR name?"

Laura artlessly replied. She was dumbfounded by the storm of merriment
that followed. Maria Morell, the fat girl, went purple, and had to be
thumped on the back by her friend.

"Oh, my!" she gasped, when she had got her breath. "Oh, my ... hold me,
some one, or I shall split! Oh, golly! Laura ... Tweedle ...
Rambotham--Laura ... Tweedle ... Rambotham! ..." her voice tailed off
again. "Gosh! Was there ever such a name?"

She laughed till she could laugh no more, rocking backwards and
forwards and from side to side; while her companion proceeded to make
further inquiries.

"Where do you come from?" the squint demanded of Laura, in a
business-like way.

Laura named the township, quaveringly. "What's your father?"

"He's dead," answered the child.

"Well, but I suppose he was alive once wasn't he, duffer? What was he
before he was dead?"

"A barrister."

"What did he die of?"

"Consumption."

"How many servants do you keep?"

"One."

"How much have you got a year?"

"I don't know."

"How old are you?"

"Twelve and a quarter."

"Who made your dress?"

"Mother."

"Oh, I say, hang it, that's enough. Stop teasing the kid," said Maria
Morell, when the laughter caused by the last admission had died away.
But the squint spied a friend, ran to her, and there was a great deal
of whispering and sniggering. Presently the pair came sauntering up and
sat down; and after some artificial humming and hawing the newcomer
began to talk, in a loud and fussy manner, about certain acquaintances
of hers called Tweedledum and Tweedledee. Both the fat girl and the
squint "split" with laughter. Laura sat with her hands locked one
inside the other; there was no escape for her, for she did not know
where to go. But when the third girl put the regulation question:
"What's your name and what's your father?" she turned on her, with the
courage of despair.

"What's yours?" she retorted hotly, at the same time not at all sure
how the big girl might revenge herself. To her relief, the others burst
out laughing at their friend's bafflement.

"That's one for you, Kate Horner," said Maria with a chuckle. "Not bad
for the kid.--Come on, Kid, will you have a walk round the garden?"

"Oh yes, PLEASE," said Laura, reddening with