thingtohimselfanddrummedonthewindow-pahhiscoarsefingers.HehadjustturnedroundtosaysomethihedooropenedandSibylranin.

    "Howseriousyoubothare!"shecried."Whatisthematter?"

    "Nothing,"heanswered."Isupposeobeserioussometimes.Good-bye,Mother;Iwillhavemydifiveoclock.Everythingispacked,exceptmyshirts,soyoutrouble."

    "Good-bye,myson,"sheansweredwithabowofstraiateliness.

    Shewasextremelyahetonehehadadoptedwithher,andtherewassomethinginhislookthathadmadeherfeelafraid.

    "Kissme,Mother,"saidthegirl.Herflowerlikelipstouchedthewitheredcheekandwarmeditsfrost.

    "Mychild!mychild!"criedMrs.Vane,lookinguptotheceilinginsearchofanimaginarygallery.

    "e,Sibyl,"saidherbrotherimpatiently.Hehatedhismothersaffectations.

    Theywentoutintotheflickering,wind-blownsunlightandstrolleddownthedrearyEustonRoad.Thepassersbyglanwohesullenheavyyouthwho,incoarse,ill-fittingclothes,wasinthepanyofsuchagraceful,refined-lookinggirl.Hewaslikeaongardenerwalkingwitharose.

    Jimfrownedfromtimetotimewhenhecaughttheinquisitiveglanestranger.Hehadthatdislikeofbeingstaredat,whiesongeeinlifeandneverleavestheonplace.Sibyl,however,wasquiteunsciousoftheeffectsherodug.Herlovewastremblinginlaughteronherlips.ShewasthinkingofPrinceCharming,and,thatshemightthinkofhimallthemore,shedidnottalkofhim,butprattledonabouttheshipinwhichJimwasgoingtosail,aboutthegoldhewascertaintofind,aboutthewonderfulheiresswhoselifeh