“It was not very nice for me to tell that about the tops and marbles,” Nan remarked, slowly. .
“And it was not nice at all,” said Harry, “for me to say that you were jealous sometimes.”
“But I am,” Nan truthfully admitted; “I know that well enough, only I do not like to be told about it.”
“Of course you don't, Nan,” and Mr. Vale drew the honest little, maiden nearer to him. “Of course you don't, few of us like to be told of our faults; but we ought to like it, for often it would be the very best thing that could happen to us. Perhaps we should not go on making the same errors over and over again if somebody would tell us about them, and we could take the telling kindly.”
“Mr. Vale,” said Rex, who had been sitting thoughtful and silent for some time, “were you just a regular little boy?”
“Very irregular sometimes, I fear, only I don't quite know what you mean, Rex.”
“Why, you see, I would like to be like you when I grow up; but I'm afraid I'm too different at the start. I mean did you use to be like other boys and me? Did you often get angry and speak back?”