delightful things in store for him. But he must be very good,
and not lose his temper, or spend his money foolishly. She was only a
year older than he was, but she knew so much more of life. He must be
sure, also, to write to her by every mail, and to say his prayers each
night before he went to sleep. God was very good, and would watch over
him. She would pray for him, too, and in a few years he would come back
quite rich and happy.

The lad listened sulkily to her, and made no answer. He was heart-sick
at leaving home.

Yet it was not this alone that made him gloomy and morose.
Inexperienced though he was, he had still a strong sense of the danger
of Sibyl's position. This young dandy who was making love to her could
mean her no good. He was a gentleman, and he hated him for that, hated
him through some curious race-instinct for which he could not account,
and which for that reason was all the more dominant within him. He was
conscious also of the shallowness and vanity of his mother's nature, and
in that saw infinite peril for Sibyl and Sibyl's happiness. Children
begin by loving their parents; as they grow older they judge them;
sometimes they forgive them.

His mother! He had something on his mind to ask of her, something that
he had brooded on for many months of silence. A chance phrase that he
had heard at the theatre, a whispered sneer that had reached his ears
one night as he waited at the stage-door, had set loose a train of
horrible thoughts. He remembered it as if it had been the lash of a
hunting-crop across his face. His brows knit together into a wedge-like
furrow, and with a twitch of pain he bit his under-lip.

"You are not listening to a word I am saying, Jim," cried Sibyl, "and I
am making the most delightful plans for your future. Do say something."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Oh! that you will be a good boy, and not forget us," she answered,
smiling at him.

He shrugged his shoulders. "You are more likely to forget me, than I am
to forget you, Sibyl."

She flushed. "What do you mean, Jim?" she asked.

"You have a new friend, I hear. Who is he? Why have you not told me
about him? He means you no good."

"Stop, Jim!" she exclaimed. "You must not say anything against him. I
love him."

"Why, you don't even know his name," answered the lad. "Who is he? I
have a right to know."

"He is called Prince Charming. Don't you like the name? Oh! you silly
boy! you should never forget it. If