give him another three weeks, and not a day
longer. What do you think was the last thing he did? Went and had his
hair cut--wanted to get rid of his curl, he said."

"I can't blame him for that," Burton remarked, smiling. "I never
thought it becoming. Will you shake hands, Ellen, before you go?"

"I won't!" she replied, drawing up her skirt in genteel fashion. "I
want nothing to do with you. Only, if he don't alter, well, just you
look out, for you'll find him on your doorstep."

She departed in a "Lily of the Valley" scent and little fragments of
purple fluff. Burton threw himself into an easy-chair.

"If one could only find the tree," he muttered to himself. "What a
life for the boy! Poor little chap!"

CHAPTER XXI

AN AMAZING TRANSFORMATION

The novel which was to bring immortal fame and, incidentally, freedom
from all financial responsibilities, to Burton, came back within a week,
with a polite note which he was at first inclined to accept as some
consolation until he found that it was stereotyped. Within a few hours
it was despatched to another firm of publishers, taken at random from
the advertisement columns of the Times. An hour or two afterwards
Alfred arrived, with no label around his neck, but a veritable truant.
Of the two he was the more self-possessed as he greeted his amazed
parent.

"I am sorry if you are angry about my coming, father," he said, a little
tremulously. "Something seems to have happened to mother during the
last few days. Everything that I do displeases her."

"I am not angry," Burton declared, after a moment's amazed silence.
"The only thing is," he added, glancing helplessly around, "I don't know
what to do with you. I have no servants here and only my one little
bed."

The child smiled. He appeared to consider these matters unimportant.

"You eat things sometimes, I suppose, daddy?" he said, apologetically.
"I left home before breakfast this morning and it took me some time to
find my way here."

"Sit down for five minutes," Burton directed him, "and I'll take you out
somewhere."

Burton was glad to get into the privacy of his small bedroom and sit
down for a moment. The thing was amazing enough when it had happened to
himself. It was, perhaps, more amazing still to watch its effect upon
Mr. Waddington. But certainly this was the most astounding development
of all! The child was utterly transformed. There was no sign of his
mother's hand upon his clothes, his neatly