"Where'd you get that cap?" he said at last.
"Dunno," said the boy. He took it off and looked at William's.
William nodded. The boy whipped off the cap without a word and handed it to William, taking William's school cap in return. William, with a sigh of bliss, put it on. It enveloped his whole head and forehead, the large peak standing out over his nose. He pulled it firmly down. It was the cap of his dreams--the cap of a brigand chief.
"We hare smart, ain't we?" said Eglantine with a little high-pitched laugh.
William felt blissfully happy walking along beside her.
"Wot does yer farver do?" demanded Elbert of William suddenly.
"Wot does yours?" replied William guardedly.
"'E goes rahnd wiv a barrer sellin' things," said Elbert.
"Moine sweeps chimeneys," said Eglantine shrilly, "'e gets that black."
William bowed his head in shame. He could not bear to confess that his father neither sold things nor swept chimneys, but merely caught a train to London and his office every morning.
"You're a horphin, then," said Eglantine, with an air of wide knowledge of the world.
[Illustration: WILLIAM FELT BLISSFULLY HAPPY WALKING ALONG BESIDE HER.]
At this point the tall, thin man in front stopped and collected his flock around him. He wore a harassed and anxious expression.
"Now," he said, "are we all here? One--two--three--four," he counted to himself, wagging a thin forefinger round the group as he spoke.
"Plears, sir, William's a horphin," said Eglantine excitedly.
"Yes, yes," said the tall man. "Let me see--I seem to make you one too many, but no matter----William an orphan? How sad! Poor little fellow! Come along. We're going to play in the woods first, children, and then go to a kind friend's to tea. The vicar rang her up this morning and she very kindly offered to give you tea. Very kind! Very kind! Yes, yes. This way, I think."
Again the little procession moved on its way.
"Softie!" commented Eglantine scornfully. "'E's one of the swanks, 'e is! 'E's a friend of the vicar's, 'cause the vicar couldn't come. Ain't got no patience wiv 'em myself. Whoi carn't they talk like other folks?"
William redoubled his efforts to acquire his friend's intonation.
"Yes, whoi-oi'd loike ter know," he said aggressively, pulling his large and loud tweed cap yet farther over his eyes. The tall, thin man at the head of the procession stopped again.