Fred absolutely chuckled as he tugged away at his white socks, and revealed his pink toes.
“Now, come to Patie.”
Fred scrambled to his feet, and holding Alec’s hand, trotted down the long nursery.
“Patie,” said Alec, “take F’ed on ’our lap, and play Tic-tac-too for him?”
Patience was busy sewing; she raised her eyes. Two smiling little baby-boys were standing by her knee. Could this child, whose blue eyes were full of sunshine, be the miserable little Fred?
“Well, master Alec,” she said, kissing the older baby, “you’re a perfect little darling. Well, I never! to think of you finding out a way to please that poor child.”
“Tic-tac-too!” said Fred, in a loud and vigorous voice. He was fast getting over his shyness, and Alec’s game suited him to perfection.
But the little stranger did not like the game of kittens. He marched in a fat, solid sort of way across the nursery, and sat down in a corner, with his back to the company. Here he really looked a most dismal little figure. The view of his back was heart-rending; his curly head drooped slightly, forlornness was written all over his little person.
“What a little muff he is!” said Harry; “I’m glad I didn’t give my skin horse to him.”