"I never cries after twelve o'clock," said Bruno: "'cause then it's getting so near to dinner-time."
"Sometimes, in the morning," Sylvie said in a low voice; "when it's Geography-day, and when he's been disobe"
"What a fellow you are to talk, Sylvie!" Bruno hastily interposed. "Doos oo think the world was made for oo to talk in?"
"Why, where would you have me talk, then?" Sylvie said, evidently quite ready for an argument.
But Bruno answered resolutely. "I'm not going to argue about it, 'cause it's getting late, and there wo'n't be timebut oo's as 'ong as ever oo can be!" And he rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes, in which tears were beginning to glitter.
Sylvie's eyes filled with tears in a moment. "I didn't mean it, Bruno, darling!" she whispered; and the rest of the argument was lost 'amid the tangles of Neæra's hair,' while the two disputants hugged and kissed each other.
But this new form of argument was brought to a sudden end by a flash of lightning, which
