"Halloa!" exclaimed Wilfrid, ruefully at first, and then added more cheerily—
"Ha! Do you think I didn't know you all the time?"
"Did you really?" inquired his sister, her eyes wide open with surprise.
"No, I didn't," he replied curtly.
Then Norah's arm stole round her brother's neck, and she put the money into his pocket, and told him gently that she had only wanted to have a little bit of fun, and he was welcome to use her paint-box—only please not on her dolls.
Then Wilfrid told her that she was a jolly good sort; and that after all it was a shame to tease her, as she couldn't fight him for it. And Norah hugged him, and they both laughed about how well they had "pretended" to one another.
The sun was shining still, and when the children romped on the lawn the stuck-up crocuses didn't have the best of it, after all.
THE STORM THE TEAPOT BREWED
In a bright nursery, hung with pictures, the table was laid for tea. Upon an iron tray, which had seen much service—even military service, as a drum used by the nursery band—stood the tea-set. This set included a very large cup which belonged to Nurse, bearing the funny inscription, "I am not greedy, but I like a lot." The other cups were also lettered in gold. One hailed, it declared, "From Margate," and showed the pier as a proof. Another, a small one made of porcelain, wished "Many Happy Returns to Effie" every time she looked at it. A thick, fat cup proclaimed itself "A Present to Daniel," and a mug bore the perpetual reminder that it was "For a Good Boy"—but it was cracked, so it didn't look quite happy, perhaps because the reminder was not always capable of keeping the boy good.