me; you promised you'd never have any
secrets from me, Helen, you know you did.'

Helen put her arm round him and said nothing. And from her silence Pip
drew the most desperate and harrowing conclusions. The silence lasted.
The rain gurgled in the water-pipe and dripped on the ivy. The canary in
the green cage that hung in the window put its head on one side and
tweaked a seed husk out into Philip's face, then twittered defiantly.
But his sister said nothing.

'Don't,' said Philip suddenly, 'don't break it to me; tell me straight
out.'

'Tell you what?' she said again.

'What is it?' he said. '_I_ know how these unforetold misfortunes
happen. Some one always comes--and then it's broken to the family.'

'_What_ is?' she asked.

'The misfortune,' said Philip breathlessly. 'Oh, Helen, I'm not a baby.
Do tell me! Have we lost our money in a burst bank? Or is the landlord
going to put bailiffs into our furniture? Or are we going to be falsely
accused about forgery, or being burglars?'

All the books Philip had ever read worked together in his mind to
produce these melancholy suggestions. Helen laughed, and instantly felt
a stiffening withdrawal of her brother from her arm.

'No, no, my Pippin, dear,' she made haste to say. 'Nothing horrid like
that has happened.'

'Then what is it?' he asked, with a growing impatience that felt like a
wolf gnawing inside him.

'I didn't want to tell you all in a hurry like this,' she said
anxiously; 'but don't you worry, my boy of boys. It's something that
makes me very happy. I hope it will you, too.'

He swung round in the circling of her arm and looked at her with sudden
ecstasy.

'Oh, Helen, dear--I know! Some one has left you a hundred thousand
pounds a year--some one you once opened a railway-carriage door for--and
now I can have a pony of my very own to ride. Can't I?'

'Yes,' said Helen slowly, 'you can have a pony; but nobody's left me
anything. Look here, my Pippin,' she added, very quickly, 'don't ask any
more questions. I'll tell you. When I was quite little like you I had a
dear friend I used to play with all day long, and when we grew up we
were friends still. He lived quite near us. And then he married some one
else. And then the some one died. And now he wants me to marry him. And
he's got lots of horses and a beautiful house and park,' she added.

'And where shall I be?' he asked.

'With me, of course, wherever I am.'

'It won't be just us two any more,