en Agnes went out the two children stared at each other.

"Connie," said Ronald, "I wish you'd tell me the real, real truth."

But Connie was trembling very much. "Don't yer ax me," she said. She
suddenly burst into tears. "I am so dreadfully frightened," she cried.
"I don't think I ever wor so frightened in all my life before. You're
not half so frightened as I am, Ronald."

"Of course not," said Ronald, "for I am a boy, you see, and I'll be a
man by-and-by. Besides, I have to think of father--father would have
gone through anything. Once he was in a shipwreck. The ship was really
wrecked, and a great many of the passengers were drowned. Father told me
all about it, but it was from a friend of father's that I learned
afterwards how splendid he was, saving--oh, heaps of people! It was that
night," continued Ronald, sitting down by the fire as he spoke, his eyes
glowing with a great thought, and his little face all lit up by the
fire-light--"it was that night that he first found out how much he
loved mother; for mother was in a great big Atlantic liner, and it was
father who saved her life. Afterwards they were married to each other,
and afterwards I came to them--God sent me, you know."

"Yus," said Connie.

She dried her eyes.

"Go on talking, Ronald," she said. "I never met a boy like you. I
thought there were no one like Giles, but it seems to me some'ow that
you're a bit better--you're so wonnerful, wonnerful brave, and 'ave such
a cunnin' way of talkin'. I s'pose that's 'cos you--you're a little
gen'leman, Ronald."

Ronald made no answer to this. After a minute he said:

"There's no thanks to me to be brave--that is, when I'm brave it's all
on account of father, and 'Like father, like son.' Mother used to teach
me that proverb when I was very small. Shall I tell you other things
that father did?"

"Oh yus, please," said Connie.

"He saved some people once in a great big fire. No one else had courage
to go in, but he wasn't afraid of anything. And another time he saved a
man on the field of battle. He got his V. C. for that."

"Wotever's a V. C.?" inquired Connie.

"Oh," said Ronald, "don't you even know that? How very ignorant you are,
dear Connie. A V. C.--why, it's better to be a Victoria Cross man than
to be the greatest noble in the land. Even the King couldn't be more
than a Victoria Cross man."

"Still, I don't understand," said Connie.

"It's an honor," said Ronald, "that's given for a very,