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"Nothing," he answered. "I suppose one must be serious sometimes.

Good-bye, Mother; I will have my dinner at five o'clock.

Everything is packed, except my shirts, so you need not trouble."

"Good-bye, my son," she answered with a bow of strained

stateliness.

She was extremely annoyed at the tone he had adopted with her,

and there was something in his look that had made her feel

afraid.

"Kiss me, Mother," said the girl. Her flowerlike lips touched the

withered cheek and warmed its frost.

"My child! my child!" cried Mrs. Vane, looking up to the ceiling

in search of an imaginary gallery.

"Come, Sibyl," said her brother impatiently. He hated his

mother's affectations.

They went out into the flickering, wind-blown sunlight and

strolled down the dreary Euston Road. The passersby glanced in

wonder at the sullen heavy youth who, in coarse, ill-fitting

clothes, was in the company of such a graceful, refined-looking

girl. He was like a common gardener walking with a rose.