Page:The Father Confessor, Stories of Danger and Death.djvu/92

82 the shine of his successes. He held her hands and traced out their happy lives together. And she leant towards him, already dwelling in those splendid years he told her of. A child's rough hand upon his shoulder startled both.

"Mother wants to know what you are doing, sitting here," came the shrill voice, full of reproach.

The lad started to his feet. "What am I doing—oh! I must tell mother. Sit there, Mollie, till I come back and tell you what she says."

He took the child's hand, telling him that a fairy god-mother had come for him to take him away to a beautiful city and make him a king. But the child listened with a sulky face, and coming near the house, loosed his brother's hand and ran crying indoors. When Henry followed he found himself the centre of a depressing group. His brothers' and sisters' reproachful faces stared silently from their various positions about the room. His mother was seated, her hands, idle for the moment, clasped hard together, her eyes shining with the gathering of a rain-storm.