"Then I think Lord Jesus is helping you, for you _are_ 'proved, you're quite sympathisy. I like you when you're sympathisy. Yes, I have finished my tea, and, if you wish it, I'll go out just as far as Mr. Holman's to buy the doll's house. He is poor, and he'll be real glad to sell it. He has often told me how little money he makes by the toys, and how they lose their freshness and get dusty, and children toss 'em. Some children are _so_ careless. Yes, I'll go with you, and then we'll come straight home. Father will be back certain to-night at six. He'll know that I'll be wanting him." "Sibyl, I have something to tell you." "What?" There was a tremulous note in Miss Winstead's voice which arrested the gay, careless chatter. The child looked at her governess. That deep, comprehensive, strange look visited her eyes. Miss Winstead got up hastily and walked to the window, then she returned to her seat. "What is it?" said Sibyl, still seated at the tea-table, but turning round and watching her governess. "It is something that will pain you, dear." "Oh!" said Sibyl, "go on, please. Out with it! plump it out! as Gus would say. Be quick. I don't like to be kept in 'spense." "I am afraid, Sibyl, that you will not see your father to-night." Sibyl jumped up just as if someone had shot her. She stood quite still for a moment, and a shiver went through her little frame; then she went up to Miss Winstead. "I can bear it," she said; "go on. Shall I see father to-morrow?" "Not to-morrow, nor the next day, nor the next." "Go on; I am bearing it," said Sibyl. She stood absolutely upright, white as a sheet, her eyes queerly dilated, but her lips firm. "It's a great shock, but I am bearing it," she said again. "_When_ will I see him?" Miss Winstead turned now and looked at her. "Child," she said, "don't look like that." "I'm looking no special way; I'm only bearing up. Is father dead?" "No; no, my dear. No, my poor little darling. Oh, you ought to have been told; but he did not wish it. It was his wish that you should have a happy time in the country. He has gone to Queensland; he will be back in a few months." "A few months," said Sibyl. "He's not dead?" She sat down listlessly on the window seat. She heaved a great sigh. "It's the little shots that hurt most," she said after a pause. "I wouldn't have felt it, if you had said he was dead." "Come out, Sibyl, you know now he won't be back by six." "Yes, I'll go out with you." She turned and walked very gravely out of the room. "I'd rather she cried and screamed; I'd rather she rushed at me and tried to hurt me; I'd rather she did anything than take it like that," thought the governess. Sibyl went straight into the nursery. "Nursie," she said, "my father has gone. He is in Queensland; he did not wish me to be told, but I have been told now. He is coming back in a few months. A few months is like for ever, isn't it, nursie? I am going out with Miss Winstead for a walk."