"Tell nurse to send Miss Sophia down to me."
Five minutes later a small child of seven appeared in the doorway,
and, after hesitating there for a moment, stepped timidly across the
turf. Her figure and movements were ungainly and her complexion
appeared unnaturally sallow against a dark grey frock. A wet brush,
applied two minutes before with inconsiderate zeal, had taken all the
curl out of her dark hair and smoothed it in preposterous bands on
either side of her brow. Her arms hung stiff and perpendicular, and
she fidgeted with her short skirt as she advanced.
Captain Runacles stopped short in his walk and surveyed her.
"H'm," he said. "Don't shuffle."
The little girl looked up, dropped her eyes again quickly, and let
her hands hang limp beside her. She was shaking from head to foot.
"You are a girl."
"Pardon, father," she mumbled in a low whisper.
"Next door there lives a small boy. You are in the habit of putting
out your tongue at him. Why?"
"I--I--"
Her voice wavered and she broke into a fit of sobbing.
"Tut, tut! Stop that noise; I haven't scolded you. On the contrary,
I sent for you in the hope that you might always be able to put out
your tongue at that boy. Sophia, dry your eyes and attend, please.
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