`` Why , he wants to go out coasting with those Robinson boys , but he ca n't . He has n't got any mittens and he would catch his death of cold again . '' Her voice seemed to imply that William John had died of cold several times already . Bertie looked soberly down at his old , well-darned mittens . It was very cold , and he would have a great many errands to run . He shivered , and looked up at his aunt 's hard face as she stood wiping her dish-pan with a grim frown which boded no good to the discontented William John . Then he suddenly pulled off his mittens and held them out . `` Here -- he can have mine . I 'll get on without them well enough . '' `` Nonsense ! '' said Mrs. Ross , but less unkindly . `` The fingers would freeze off you . Do n't be a goose . '' `` It 's all right , '' persisted Bertie . `` I do n't need them -- much . And William John does n't hardly ever get out . '' He thrust them into her hand and ran quickly down the street , as though he feared that the keen air might make him change his mind in spite of himself . He had to stop a great many times that day to breathe on his purple hands . Still , he did not regret having lent his mittens to William John -- poor , pale , sickly little William John , who had so few pleasures . It was sunset when Bertie laid an armful of parcels down on the steps of Doctor Forbes 's handsome house .
His back was turned towards the big bay window at one side , and he was busy trying to warm his hands , so he did not see the two small faces looking XXXXX him through the frosty panes .
Bertie as at down errands into of on to with