"What shall we do with it, Chris?"
"Take it to her," cried Chris, joyfully pouncing upon it and putting it in his pocket. "Come on, Noel, hurry up! The Hall is ever so far off, but it will be fun going there. I shouldn't wonder if they haven't kept Dinah to tea."
"I found it," said Noel sulkily. "It's mine, it isn't yours."
"What does it matter who found it, you stupid! Why, you're beginning to cry! What a baby! I'll give it to you to give to her when we get there. Come on! What a slow coach you are!"
Noel struggled to keep up with his brother's quick pace, but at last he gave up, and again dissolved into tears.
"I'm tarred. I've walked ever so many miles. I wiss I was home!"
"Then you go home, and I'll go on to the Hall."
"It isn't fair. I found it, and I like that lady. She smiled at me!"
Poor Noel was divided between his longing to go on and the desire to rest his poor little legs. The afternoon had been very warm, and he was tired out. By the time they came to the signpost at the cross-roads which marked the way to the Hall, he had made up his mind to go home.
"We might take it to her to-morrow," he suggested.