Mrs. Scott hobbled back to the house, and the pony chafed restlessly at the delay. "Quiet, darling; quiet, pet," said Sibyl to her favorite, patting him on his arched neck. Presently Mrs. Scott came back. "Dan's obligated for the apples, Miss, but he thinks a sight more of a talk with you than of any apples that ever growed. He 'opes you'll come another day." "I wish, I do wish I could come in now," said Sibyl wistfully; "but I just daren't. You see, I have not even my riding habit on, I was so afraid someone would stop me from coming at all. Give Danny my love. But you have not told me yet what a curse means, Mrs. Scott." "Oh, that," answered Mrs. Scott, "but you ain't no call to know." "But I'd like to. I hate hearing things without understanding. What is a curse, Mrs. Scott?" "There are all sorts," replied Mrs. Scott. "Once I knowed a man, and he had a curse on him, and he dwindled and dwindled, and got smaller and thinner and poorer, until nothing would nourish him, no food nor drink nor nothing, and he shrunk up ter'ble until he died. It's my belief he haunts the churchyard now. No one likes to go there in the evening. The name of the man was Micah Sorrel. He was the most ter'ble example of a curse I ever comed acrost in my life." "Well, I really must be going now," said Sibyl with a little shiver. "Good-by; tell Dan I'll try hard to come and see him to-morrow." She turned the pony's head and cantered down the lane. She did not consider Mrs. Scott a specially nice old woman. "She's a gloomy sort," thought the child, "she takes a gloomy view. I like people who don't take gloomy views best. Perhaps she is something like old Scott; having lived with him so long as his wife, perhaps they have got to think things the same way. Old Scott looked very solemn when he said that it was a terrible thing to have the curse of the poor. I wonder what Micah Sorrel did. I am sorry she told me about him, I don't like the story. But there, why should I blame Mrs. Scott, for I asked her to 'splain what a curse was. I 'spect I'm a very queer girl, and I didn't really keep my whole word. I said positive and plain that I would take a basket of apples to Dan, and go and sit with him. I did take the apples, but I didn't go in and sit with him. Oh, dear, I'll have to go back by the churchyard. I hope Micah Sorrel won't be about. I shouldn't like to see him, he must be shrunk up so awful by now. Come along, pony darling, we'll soon be back home again." Sibyl lightly touched the pony's ears with a tiny whip which Lord Grayleigh had given her. He whisked his head indignantly at the motion and broke into a trot, the trot became a canter, and the canter a gallop. Sibyl laughed aloud in her enjoyment. They were now close to the churchyard. The sun was getting near the horizon, but still there was plenty of light.