“I love him.”
“And you’re not dreadfully dull?”
“Oh no!”
Queenie looked at him critically.
“You don’t look as if you were unhappy. You’ve grown, I’m sure. You look quite different from what you did. Are you happy?”
“Yes, very.”
“Well, I’m glad of that,” said Queenie. “I like people to have nice times. I’ve had such fun myself.”
“Have you? Where have you been?”
“Oh, to lots of places. We stayed in ever so many houses, and it was great fun. Sometimes there were other children, and sometimes there weren’t. I liked both, but I think I liked it best when there were no nurseries or schoolrooms; then I was generally with the ladies. I liked to hear them talk, and they gave me pretty things. I’m never troublesome, you know, except to nurse,” added Queenie, shaking her curly head with a merry laugh; “so people like me, and say I’m no trouble, and then I’m not turned out.”
Bertie laughed too, because Queenie’s mirth was infectious.