"It's werry dull to-day, Floss; the sea looks dull too, it isn't dancey a bit to-day, and the sands look as if they would never be nice for running on again."
"Oh, but they will, Master Carrots," said nurse, who was sitting near, busy darning stockings. "Dear, dear! don't I remember feeling just so when I was a child? In winter thinking summer would never come, and in summer forgetting all about winter!"
"Is it a werry long time since you were a child?" inquired Carrots, directing his attention to nurse.
"It's getting on for a good long time, my dear," said nurse, with a smile.
"Please tell me about it," said Carrots.
"Oh yes, nursie dear, do," said Floss, jumping up from the floor and shutting her book. "I've done all my lessons, and it would just be nice to have a story. It would amuse poor little Carrots."
"But you know all my stories as well, or even better, than I do myself," objected nurse, "not that they were ever much to tell, any of them."
"Oh yes, they were. They are very nice stories indeed," said Floss, encouragingly. "And I'm very fond of what you call your mother's stories, too—aren't you, Carrots?—about the children she was nurse to—Master Hugh and Miss Janet. Tell us more about them, nursie."
"You've heard all the stories about them, my dears, I'm afraid," said nurse. "At least, I can't just now think of any worth telling but what you've heard."
"Well, let's hear some not worth the telling," said Floss, persistently. "Nurse," she went on, "how old must Master Hugh and Miss Janet be by now? Do you know where they are?"