had. What would Nicky's own
position in life have been? Probably no better than that of his
grandfather, old James Ruan. Ishmael laughed outright, much to Nicky's
indignation, but when he spoke again his voice was gentler.

"I'll think it over," he promised, "and I'll write to your uncle and ask
him what he thinks. I don't want to clip your wings, Nicky, Heaven
forbid! I mayn't always have enjoyed having my own flights so
circumscribed, you know."

Into Nicky's generous young heart rushed a flood of sympathy on the
instant. "It must have been rotten for you," he said eagerly. "I know
the old Parson's always saying how splendid you've been about this place
and all that; you mustn't think I don't realise."

Ishmael, aware that he had not really wished his flights to be wider,
that his nature had been satisfied, as far as satisfaction lay in his
power, by Cloom, by the soil which was the fabric of life to him, felt
he was obtaining sympathy and approbation on false pretences--indeed, he
had deliberately angled for them. They were too sweet to refuse, however
come by. Nicky, the young and splendid, whom he loved so dearly in spite
of--or could it be because of?--his elusiveness, did not so often warm
his heart that he could spurn this. He crossed over to where Nicky sat
on the edge of the table and allowed himself one of his rare caresses,
slipping his arm about the boy's shoulders. "We'll see, Nicky!" he said.

At that moment there came a crash against the door, and it burst open to
admit the two little girls, Vassilissa and Ruth. Vassilissa, always
called Lissa, to avoid confusion when her aunt came to stay, was a slim,
vivid-looking child, not pretty, but with a face that changed with every
emotion and a pair of lovely grey eyes. Ruth was simpler, sweeter, more
stolid; a bundle of fat and a mane of brown hair chiefly represented her
personality at present. Lissa was twelve, and looked more, but Ruth
seemed younger than her eleven years by reason of her shyness in company
and her slow speech. Ishmael privately thought Lissa a very remarkable
child, but something in him, some touch of the woman, made him in his
heart of hearts love better the quiet little Ruth, who was apt to be
dismissed as "stodgy." He frowned now as they both came tumbling
in--Lissa with the sure bounds with which she seemed to take the world,
Ruth with her usual heaviness. This room, the little one over the porch
that had been Nicky's bedroom in hi