"But if you do not love him _now_, and if you are sure that you will
hate him by-and-by," says Barbara, looking rather puzzled, "what makes
you think of taking him?"

"It would be such a fine thing for all the family: I could give all the
boys such a shove," say I, with homely shrewdness.

"They killed seven hundred head of game on his big day last year; I
heard him tell father so," says Bobby, with his mouth watering.

"He has a moor in Scotland," throws in the Brat.

"He must ride a stone heavier than I do," says Algy, thoughtfully, "his
horses would certainly carry me: I wonder would he give me a mount now
and then?"

"I would have you _all_ staying with me _always_," I cry, warming with
my theme, and beginning to dance, "all except father: he should come
once a year for a week, if he was good, and _not at all_, if he was
not."

"What will you call him, Nancy?" asks the Brat, inquisitively. "What
shall _we_ call him?"

"He will be Tou Tou's _brother_" cries Bobby, with a yell of delight.

"Hush!" says Barbara, apprehensively, "he will hear you."

"No he will not," I answer, composedly. "A person would have to bawl
even louder than Bobby does, to make him hear: he has gone away for a