ll about you,' he said; 'you're a white witch. I am a bad
boy, but I'm going to be good now, quite good. If I do everything you
tell me, and promise not to be a leech again, and give you all the
money in my pocket, will you make me into a bird, so that I can fly
over the sea and back home to Biddy? Will you, white witch, will you?'

He had risen to his feet and was looking at her with such a white
earnest face, and she could feel the thin little hands trembling as
they clutched her dress. Angelica hardly knew what to say with those
great eyes, grey eyes like Betty's, devouring her face.

'Godfrey, dear,' she said gently, 'you're mistaken, dear, I'm not a
witch at all; I'm your papa's sister. I loved your papa and I want to
love you, if you'll let me. I want you to come into the house with me,
and I know you will be good.'

The child looked steadily at her for a minute, as if to make quite sure
that she was speaking the truth, then his lips suddenly began to quiver.

'Can't I--can't I--go back, then?' he said, pressing his thin little
hands tight together.

'We want you to try and be happy here with us,' said Angel very gently.

The bitter disappointment that swept over the little white face went to
her heart. She put her arm tenderly round the boy, and felt that he
was quivering all over from head to foot; he had set his teeth hard and
was clasping his hands tightly, as if to force the tears back. He
looked such a small, fragile thing with the black lines of weariness
under his big, sad eyes; the only wonder was that he had managed to
give poor Mr. Crayshaw so much trouble. Now when Angelica put her arm
around him, his courage seemed to give way all at once, he gave a sort
of gasp, and his voice ran up into a shrill little quaver.

'Take me where he can't see,' he faltered, and Angel, without another
word, bore him off into the house and upstairs with his face hidden
against her.

I think we must admit that poor Mr. Crayshaw had had a good deal to try
him that evening. He had come down from London after some very
disagreeable business there, and, as we can imagine, the journey had
not been a very pleasant one. Then there had been that dreadful
arrival, when Betty and the driver and the postilion had all laughed at
him. And now, here at Oakfield Cottage, where his wishes were always
treated with the greatest respect, he was kept waiting full twenty
minutes for his supper. He rang the bell twice witho