orgiven you'--I like HER forgiving me. 'I told
mother about you this morning, and she will have much pleasure if you
come to tea on Sunday, but she will have to get father's consent also. I
sincerely hope he will agree. I will let you know how it transpires. If,
however, you--'"

"'Let you know how it' what?" interrupted Mrs. Morel.

"'Transpires'--oh yes!"

"'Transpires!'" repeated Mrs. Morel mockingly. "I thought she was so
well educated!"

William felt slightly uncomfortable, and abandoned this maiden, giving
Paul the corner with the thistles. He continued to read extracts from
his letters, some of which amused his mother, some of which saddened her
and made her anxious for him.

"My lad," she said, "they're very wise. They know they've only got to
flatter your vanity, and you press up to them like a dog that has its
head scratched."

"Well, they can't go on scratching for ever," he replied. "And when
they've done, I trot away."

"But one day you'll find a string round your neck that you can't pull
off," she answered.

"Not me! I'm equal to any of 'em, mater, they needn't flatter
themselves."

"You flatter YOURSELF," she said quietly.

Soon there was a heap of twisted black pages, all that remained of the
file of scented letters, except that Paul had thirty or forty pretty
tickets from the corners of the notepaper--swallows and forget-me-nots
and ivy sprays. And William went to London, to start a new life.

CHAPTER IV

THE YOUNG LIFE OF PAUL

PAUL would be built like his mother, slightly and rather small. His fair
hair went reddish, and then dark brown; his eyes were grey. He was a
pale, quiet child, with eyes that seemed to listen, and with a full,
dropping underlip.

As a rule he seemed old for his years. He was so conscious of what other
people felt, particularly his mother. When she fretted he understood,
and could have no peace. His soul seemed always attentive to her.

As he grew older he became stronger. William was too far removed from
him to accept him as a companion. So the smaller boy belonged at first
almost entirely to Annie. She was a tomboy and a "flybie-skybie", as her
mother called her. But she was intensely fond of her second brother. So
Paul was towed round at the heels of Annie, sharing her game. She raced
wildly at lerky with the other young wild-cats of the Bottoms. And
always Paul flew beside her, living her share of the game, having as
yet no part of his own. He was qu