again, and though I think the empty place
at the end of the table gave my father a fresh shock when I took my
old post by him, yet I fancy the lonely evening was less lonely for my
presence.

From his intense indulgence I think I dimly gathered that he thought
me ill. I combined this in my mind with a speech of my nurse's that I
had overheard, and which gave me the horrors at the time--"He's got
_the look_! It's his poor ma over again!"--and I felt a sort of
melancholy self-importance not uncommon with children who are out of
health.

I may say here that my nurse had a quality very common amongst
uneducated people. She was "sensational;" and her custom of going over
all the circumstances of my mother's death and funeral (down to the
price of the black paramatta of which her own dress was composed) with
her friends, when she took me out walking, had not tended to make me
happier or more cheerful.

That night I ate more from my father's plate than I had eaten for
weeks. As I lay after dinner with my head upon his breast, he stroked
my curls with a tender touch that seemed to heal my griefs, and said,
almost in a tone of remorse,

"What can papa do for you, my poor dear boy?"

I looked up quickly into his face.

"What would Regie like?" he persisted.

I quite understood him now, and spoke out boldly the desires of my
heart.

"Please, papa, I should like Mrs. Bundle for a nurse; and I do very
much want Rubens."

"And who is Rubens?" asked my father.

"Oh, please, it's a dog," I said. "It belongs to Mr. Mackenzie at the
school. And it's such a little dear, all red and white; and it licked
my face when nurse and I were there yesterday, and I put my hand in
its mouth, and it rolled over on its back, and it's got long ears, and
it followed me all the way home, and I gave it a piece of bread, and
it can sit up, and"--

"But, my little man," interrupted my father--and he had absolutely
smiled at my catalogue of marvels--"if Rubens belongs to Mr.
Mackenzie, and is such a wonderful fellow, I'm afraid Mr. Mackenzie
won't part with him."

"He would," I said, "but--" and I paused, for I feared the barrier was
insurmountable.

"But what?" said my father.

"He wants ten shillings for him, Nurse says."

"If that's all, Regie," said my father, "you and I will go and buy
Rubens to-morrow morning."

Rubens was a little red and white spaniel of much beauty and sagacity.
He was the prettiest, gentlest, most winning of