“Why?” “To please mother.” “Shall I write ‘always’ when I can write?” he asked. “Of course, darling.” “But what is that man for?” “He’s an old friend of mother’s.” “I like him,” said Michael confidently. “Do you, darling?” said his mother, and then suddenly she kissed him. That evening when Michael’s prayers were concluded and he was lying very still in his bed, he waited for his mother’s tale. “Once upon a time,” she began, “there was a very large and enormous forest——” “No, don’t tell about a forest,” Michael interrupted. “Tell about that man in the picture.” Mrs. Fane was staring out of the window, and after a moment’s hesitation she turned round. “Because there _are_ fairy-tales without a prince,” said Michael apologetically. “Well, once upon a time,” said his mother, “there lived in an old old country house three sisters whose mother had died when they were quite small.” “Why did she die?” “She was ill.” Michael sighed sympathetically. “These three sisters,” his mother went on, “lived with their father, an old clergyman.” “Was he kind to them?” “According to his own ideas he was very kind. But the youngest sister always wanted to have her own way and one day when she was feeling very cross because her father had told her she was to go and stay with an aunt, who should come riding along a lane but——” “That man,” interrupted Michael, greatly excited. “A rider on horseback. And he said good morning, and she said good morning, though she had no business to.” “Why hadn’t she?” “Because it isn’t right for girls to speak to riders on horseback without being introduced. But the rider was very handsome and brave and after that they met very often, and then one day he said, ‘Won’t you ride away with me?’ and she rode away with him and never saw her father or her sisters or the old house any more.” Mrs. Fane had turned her face to the sunset again. “Is that all?” Michael asked. “That’s all.” “Was they happy ever afterwards?” “Very happy—too happy.” “Are they happy now?” “Very happy—too happy.” “Did they live in a castle?” “Sometimes, and sometimes they lived in a beautiful ship and went sailing away to the most beautiful cities in the world.” “Can’t Michael go with you?” he asked. “Darling boy, it’s a fairy-tale.” “Is it?” he said doubtfully.