reading. She, Laura, in her solitude, was conspicuous to every eye. But
at this juncture up came two rather rollicking older girls, one
of whom was fair, with a red complexion. AS soon as their loud voices
had driven the governess away, the smaller of the two, who had a
pronounced squint, turned to Laura.

"Hullo, you kid," she said, "what's YOUR name?"

Laura artlessly replied. She was dumbfounded by the storm of merriment
that followed. Maria Morell, the fat girl, went purple, and had to be
thumped on the back by her friend.

"Oh, my!" she gasped, when she had got her breath. "Oh, my . . . hold
me, some one, or I shall split! Oh, golly! Laura . . . Tweedle . . .
Rambotham--Laura . . . Tweedle . . . Rambotham! . . ." her voice tailed
off again. "Gosh! Was there ever such a name?"

She laughed till she could laugh no more, rocking backwards and forwards
and from side to side; while her companion proceeded to make further
inquiries.

"Where do you come from?" the squint demanded of Laura, in a
business-like way.

Laura named the township, quaveringly. "What's your father?"

"He's dead," answered the child.

"Well, but I suppose he was alive once wasn't he, duffer? What was he
before he was dead?"