htened of dogs."

"No, dear, I know you're not," said his mother. But she did not feel
satisfied. Her little boy did not look the same as usual somehow. Still
she felt it was better to ask no more--after a while Ted would perhaps
tell her of himself. And she did well, for it would have been almost
impossible for him to tell his mingled feelings.

"Muzzer likes that big man," he was thinking to himself. "Muzzer thinks
he's kind. It's naughty and unkind of Ted to be frightened," and so the
loyal little man kept silence.

And it was not for a long time--not till Ted himself had learnt to
"understand" a little better, that even his mother understood the
whole.

CHAPTER IV.

THE STORY OF SUNNY.

"Of course he was the giant,
With beard as white as snow."

But whenever Mr. Brand, poor man, came to call, Ted was sure in some
mysterious way to disappear. After a while his mother began to notice
it, though, as Mr. Brand did not come very often, she did not do so all
at once. She noticed, however, another thing which she was sorry for.
Ted took a dislike to the big mountain. It was a great pity, for before
that he had been so fond of it--so fond of watching the different
expressions, "looks" Ted called them, that it wore according to the time
of day, or the time of year, or the weather. And his father and mother
had been pleased to see him so "noticing," for such a little boy; they
thought it showed, as indeed it did, that he was likely to grow into a
happy-minded and happy-hearted man.

But now it was quite different. When he sat on his mother's knee in the
drawing-room he would turn his little face to the side away from the
window so that he should not see the towering mountain-head. He would
never laugh at his old friend's putting on his nightcap of mist, as he
used to do, and all his pretty fancies about being able to reach the
dear little stars if he were up on the top peak of all, were spoilt.

"Something has frightened Ted," said his mother to his father one day.
"I wonder what it can be. I know _you_ wouldn't frighten him, dear," she
added, turning to Percy who was in the room, though of course _Ted_ was
not there, otherwise his mother would not have said it, "but still, has
there been anything in your play that could have done so? Have you been
talking about mountains, or telling stories about them?"

"No," said Percy, thoughtfully; "I'm sure there has been nothing. Shall
I ask Ted about it? Perh