when Michael was going to bed, there came a knock at
the door, and a tall fair man was shown into the drawing-room.

"How d'ye do, Mrs. Fane? I've come to ask you if you'll go to the
theatre to-night. Saxby is coming on later."

"Oh, thank you very much, Mr. Prescott, but I really think I must stay
in. You see," she said smilingly, "it's Michael's last night of me for a
long time."

Michael stood gazing at Mr. Prescott, hating him with all his might and
sighing relief at his mother's refusal to go out.

"Oh, Michael won't mind; will you, Michael?"

Nurse came in saying 'Bed-time! Tut-tut-tut! Bed-time!' and Michael's
heart sank.

"There you are," said Mr. Prescott. "Here's Nurse to say it's bed-time.
Now do come, Mrs. Fane."

"Oh, I really think I ought to stay."

"Now what nonsense. Saxby will be furiously disappointed. You must.
Come along, Michael, be a brave chap and tell your mother she's got to
go out; and here's something to square our account."

He pressed a little gold coin into Michael's unwilling hand.

"Would you mind very much, if I went?" his mother asked.

"No," said Michael tonelessly. The room was swimming round him in
sickening waves of disappointment.

"Of course he won't," decided Mr. Prescott boisterously.

While he was being undressed, Nurse asked what he was holding. Michael
showed the half-sovereign.

"Spoiling children," muttered Nanny. "That's for your money-box."

Michael did not care what it was for. He was listening for his mother's
step. She came in, while he lay round-eyed in his cot, and leaned over
to kiss him. He held her to him passionately; then he buried his face in
the bedclothes and, while she rustled away from him, sobbed soundlessly
for a long while.

In the morning he watched her go away until the warm summer-time and
felt abandoned as he walked through the wintry rooms, where lately he
and his mother had sat by the fire. As for the ten-shilling piece, he
thought no more about it. Soon afterwards he fell ill with
whooping-cough, he and Stella together, and the days dragged unendurably
in the stuffy nursery away from school.

Chapter III: _Fears and Fantasies_

During whooping-cough Michael was sometimes allowed to sit in a room
called the library, which was next to his mother's bedroom on the first
floor and was therefore a dearly loved resort. Here he discovered the
large volume of Don Quixote illustrated by Dore that influenced his
whole life. H