though,' said Philip, 'and you said
it should be, for ever and ever.'

'But I didn't know then, Pip, dear. He's been wanting me so long----'

'Don't _I_ want you?' said Pip to himself.

'And he's got a little girl that you'll like so to play with,' she went
on. 'Her name's Lucy, and she's just a year younger than you. And
you'll be the greatest friends with her. And you'll both have ponies to
ride, and----'

'I hate her,' cried Philip, very loud, 'and I hate him, and I hate their
beastly ponies. And I hate _you_!' And with these dreadful words he
flung off her arm and rushed out of the room, banging the door after
him--on purpose.

Well, she found him in the boot-cupboard, among the gaiters and goloshes
and cricket-stumps and old rackets, and they kissed and cried and hugged
each other, and he said he was sorry he had been naughty. But in his
heart that was the only thing he was sorry for. He was sorry that he had
made Helen unhappy. He still hated 'that man,' and most of all he hated
Lucy.

He had to be polite to that man. His sister was very fond of that man,
and this made Philip hate him still more, while at the same time it made
him careful not to show how he hated him. Also it made him feel that
hating that man was not quite fair to his sister, whom he loved. But
there were no feelings of that kind to come in the way of the
detestation he felt for Lucy. Helen had told him that Lucy had fair hair
and wore it in two plaits; and he pictured her to himself as a fat,
stumpy little girl, exactly like the little girl in the story of 'The
Sugar Bread' in the old oblong 'Shock-Headed Peter' book that had
belonged to Helen when she was little.

Helen was quite happy. She divided her love between the boy she loved
and the man she was going to marry, and she believed that they were both
as happy as she was. The man, whose name was Peter Graham, was happy
enough; the boy, who was Philip, was amused--for she kept him so--but
under the amusement he was miserable.

And the wedding-day came and went. And Philip travelled on a very hot
afternoon by strange trains and a strange carriage to a strange house,
where he was welcomed by a strange nurse and--Lucy.

'You won't mind going to stay at Peter's beautiful house without me,
will you, dear?' Helen had asked. 'Every one will be kind to you, and
you'll have Lucy to play with.'

And Philip said he didn't mind. What else could he say, without being
naughty and making Helen