Bertie understood that sort of thing, and he joined in the laugh, without quite knowing why.
“You’re such a funny little boy,” said Queenie. “You’re not a bit like my brothers; but I like you. I think we shall be friends, don’t you?”
“I should like it,” answered Bertie; “only—”
“Well? Only what?”
“Only the Squire didn’t think you’d be allowed to play with me.”
“Did he say so? When?”
“At dinner-time yesterday, when I asked if I might play with you. He said I might; but he didn’t think you’d be let to play with me.”
Queenie laughed and tossed her head.
“I think the Squire is a very clever old man; but you see I’m cleverer still.”
“How?”