ing around. She would be rewarded by hearing him jigging away behind her. She had a triumph the day he tugged her by the skirt, and when she followed unresisting he towed her to the piano without speaking a word. That day she kept faith with him and never so much as glanced sidelong from the corners of her eyes. After a long time he became so tame that Alice could turn around if she did it unobtrusively and shyly enough—if you act embarrassed before them it sometimes helps—and that was one of the days when she felt a decoration had been given her.
Of all the children Robert was the most mysterious. You would never have suspected him of such things as going to The Other Side at all. He was matter-of-fact in his manner, and when inclined spoke beautiful English, ornamented with long and carefully chosen words, many of whose meanings he understood, and all of which sounded well.
By this time his attitude toward his sister Sara did not differ from that of most brothers. He was censorious and hectoring in his manner toward her. But in his heart of hearts he yielded a sullen respect to that fiery child. Besides, he loved her tenderly, and not only endured her tumultuous affection but he kissed her as often as he allowed her to kiss him, until he went to school and learned that a boy unsexes himself when he kisses his sister.
He was the last boy in the world one would have expected to have anything like two voices. Time and again when he was little Alice would hear him playing with another child. The other child had a high, rather plaintive voice, almost like a girl's. Robert from babyhood had had a resonant boyish voice. From a distance Alice would hear these two children conversing together. She had heard them playing outside. She had
