"Oh, here's mummie," cried the boy, and he darted out of Mrs. Lewis's hand. "Look at my new clothes, mummie; look at them!" And Esther saw her boy dressed in a suit of velveteen knickerbockers with brass buttons, and a sky-blue necktie. "His father--I mean Mr. Latch--came here on Thursday morning, and took him to----" "Took me up to London----" "And brought him back in those clothes." "We went to such a big shop in Oxford Street for them, and they took down many suits before they could get one to fit. Father is that difficult to please, and I thought we should go away without any clothes, and I couldn't walk about London with father in these old things. Aren't they shabby?" he added, kicking them contemptuously. It was a little grey suit that Esther had made for him with her own hands. "Father had me measured for another suit, but it won't be ready for a few days. Father took me to the Zoological Gardens, and we saw the lions and tigers, and there are such a lot of monkeys. There is one----But what makes you look so cross, mummie dear? Don't you ever go out with father in London? London is such a beautiful place. And then we walked through the park and saw a lot of boys sailing boats. Father asked me if I had a boat. I said you couldn't afford to buy me toys. He said that was hard lines on me, and on the way back to the station we stopped at a toy-shop and he bought me a boat. May I show you my boat?" Jackie was too much occupied with thoughts of his boat to notice the gloom that was gathering on his mother's face; Mrs. Lewis wished to call upon him to desist, but before she could make up her mind what to do, he had brought the toy from the table and was forcing it into his mother's hands. "This is a cutter-rigged boat, because it has three sails and only one mast. Father told me it was. He'll be here in half-an-hour; we're going to sail the boat in the pond on the Rye, and if it gets across all right he'll take me to the park where there's a big piece of water, twice, three times as big as the water on the Rye. Do you think, mummie, that I shall ever be able to get my boat across such a piece of water as the--I've forgotten the name. What do they call it, mummie?" "Oh, I don't know; don't bother me with your boat." "Oh, mummie, what have I done that you won't look at my boat? Aren't you coming with father to the Rye to see me sail it?" "I don't want to go with you. You want me no more. I can't afford to give you boats.... Come, don't plague me any more with your toy," she said, pushing it away, and then in a moment of convulsive passion she threw the boat across the room. It struck the opposite wall, its mast was broken, and the sails and cords made a tangled little heap. Jackie ran to his toy, he picked it up, and his face showed his grief. "I shan't be able to sail my boat now; it won't sail, its mast and the sails is broke. Mummie, what did you break my boat for?" and the child burst into tears. At that moment William entered.