"For boys. Why, are boys worse than girls?"
"Oh, they are not. I know some girls who are mean, and tricky, and don't tell the truth. All girls are not like you."
"Maybe it's because everybody is so good to me. I couldn't be bad in return, you know."
"Oh, I just wish you were my sister, and lived with us."
"Well, you see that couldn't have been. God sent me to mother."
"But a fellow can wish it."
"It's queer, but there are a great many things wishing doesn't bring. I suppose it's because they can't happen."
He gave a sigh.
She knew how to dance now; Norah had taught her, but it comes natural to most children, and it did to her. She used to dance by herself, and sometimes whirl little brother round, to the great amusement of her father.
Ned used to stray over summer evenings to hear Mr. Carrick talk about the war, and the dangers he had escaped. He never told the hardest side of it, not even to Barbe.