Ethel thought deeply for a few minutes. Her characteristic selfishness, which had been almost tenderly encouraged at school, had given way temporarily before her own disappointment. "Well," she said finally, "I've got four brooches and five rings, a watch and a dressing-case. You can sell them all if you like." Then Graham turned round, gave his little sister one short, affectionate look and put his head down on her shoulder. "Don't say anything, please," he said. "Just let me stay here for a minute. It does me good." And he stayed there for many minutes, and the two sat silently and quietly, getting from each other in their mutual trouble the necessary help which both needed so much. A strange, new feeling of motherliness stole over the girl. It surprised her. It was almost like being in church on Christmas Eve, or listening to the most beautiful melody. It was a long time since these two had taken the trouble to meet each other half-way. The thoughts of both went back to those good hours when Graham had put his little sister on a sled in front of him and pushed her, laughing merrily, over the hard snow in the park. He had never even dreamed in those days of money and the fever that it brings, or women and the pain they make. And then Graham got up, just a little ashamed of himself,--after all, he was now a man of the world,--and saw that Ethel's cheeks were wet with tears. It was his turn to try and help. "Good Lord!" he said. "You don't mean to say that you're worried about anything. What is it?" She shook her head and turned her face away. "Oh, nothing--nothing at all." All the same she felt much, ever so much better for the kiss that he gave her, and went along to her own room half-determined to be honest with herself and go back to school the next day. She was rather startled to find the smell of cigarette smoke in her bedroom, which was in darkness. She turned up the nearest light and almost gave a cry of joy when she found the boy from next door sitting on the window-sill. "Jack!" she cried. "I thought you were--I thought you had----" Jack threw his cigarette out of the window and got up awkwardly. "I got your note just now," he said, "and so I've come." Ethel went to the door and locked it. All the clouds had rolled away. She was very happy. She had evidently made a mistake. He must have been prevented from coming. She wished he'd given her time to powder her nose and arrange the curls about her ears. As it was, she opened the box of cigarettes and held out the candies to him. "No, thanks," said Jack. "I'm off chocolates and I've knocked off smoking to a great extent."