hat tell," she repeated. "I wouldn't have felt
anything if it had been a big, big bang; if he had been dead, I mean,
but I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to let anybody think that I
care anything at all. Give me my hat and gloves and jacket, please,
nurse."

She went to Miss Winstead, put her hand in hers, and the two went
downstairs. When they got into the street Sibyl looked full at her,
and asked her one question.

"Was it mother said you was to tell me?"

"Yes."

"Then mother did tell me a----" Sibyl left off abruptly, her poor
little face quivered. The suffering in her eyes was so keen that Miss
Winstead did not dare to meet them. They went for a walk in the park,
and Sibyl talked in her most proper style, but she did not say any of
the nice, queer, interesting things she was, as a rule, noted for.
Instead, she told Miss Winstead dry, uninteresting little facts, with
regard to her visit to the country.

"I hear you have got a pony," said Miss Winstead.

"I don't want to talk about my pony, please," interrupted Sibyl. "Let
me tell you just what were the most perfect views near the place we
were in."

"But why may we not talk about your pony?"

"I don't want to ride my pony now."

Miss Winstead was alarmed about the child.

"You have walked quite far enough to-night," she said, "you look very
white."

"I'm not a scrap tired, I never felt better in my life. Do let us go
to the toy-shop."

"A good idea," said the governess, much cheered to find Sibyl, in her
opinion, human after all. "We will certainly go there and will choose
a beautiful toy."

"Well, this is the turning, come along," said Sibyl.

"But why should we go to Holman's, there is a splendid toy-shop in
this street."

"I'd much rather go to Mr. Holman's."

Miss Winstead did not expostulate any further. Presently they reached
the shabby little shop. Mr. Holman, the owner of the shop, was a
special friend of the child's. He had once or twice, charmed by her
sympathetic way, confided some of his griefs to her. He found it, he
told her, extremely difficult to make the toy-shop pay; and Sibyl, in
consequence, considered it her bounden duty to spend every half-penny
she could spare at this special shop. She entered now, went straight
up to the counter and held out her hand.

"How do you do, Mr. Holman," she said; "I hope I find you quite well."

"Thank you, Missy; I am in the enjoyment of good health," replied the
shopman, flushing wit