"I am sure you are still vexed with me," I said, lingering over the caress as children will, "you speak so sharply, and look so cross." He smiled; his brow smoothed; he looked from me to his sister.
"Oh! Kate," he said, "she is such a mere child," and with a sudden return of kindness he again made me sit down by him.
"Indeed, I am not such a child!" I said, rather piqued, "and you need not make me out such a little girl either, Cornelius, for you are only ten years older than I am."
"Only ten years! Why, my dear, the Roman Lustrum consisted of five years, and the Greek Olympiad of four. So that, if I were a grave Roman, I should twice have offered solemn sacrifices to the Gods, or if I were a sprightly young Greek I should twice, and a little bit over, have distinguished myself in the Olympic Games by chariot-driving, racing, leaping, throwing, wrestling, boxing, and other gentlemanly pastimes,— and all this, Midge, whilst you were still in your cradle! Why, you are a mere baby to me."
"Papa was ten years older than Mamma," I persisted: "was she a mere baby to him?"
"My dear, she was grown up."
"Well then, when I am grown up I shall not be a mere baby to you!" I replied triumphantly.
"You obstinate little thing!" observed Kate, who had listened with evident impatience; "don't you see this is a very different matter? you are as good as the adopted child of Cornelius."
"Precisely," he hastened to observe, "and as I mean to be very paternal,
I expressly desire you to be very filial."
"You want to make quite a little girl of me!" I said ruefully.