which fluttered in the breeze. Horace turned,
looked, and stood still. The man also stood still. Mrs. Errington looked
sharply round.

"What is it, Horace?" she said.

She glanced at the man, and her lips tightened.

"Come along, Horace," she said. "Come!"

But Horace, who seemed fascinated by the spectre that had claimed their
attention, still hesitated, and the man, noticing this, half held out
one hand and murmured in a husky voice--

"I am starving."

With the words, the scarlet spots in his cheeks deepened to a fiercer
hue, and he hung his head like one abruptly overwhelmed with shame.

"For God's sake give me something!" he muttered. "I've--I've never done
this before."

Horace's hand went to his waistcoat pocket, but before he could take out
a coin Mrs. Errington had decisively intervened.

"Horace, I forbid you," she said.

"Mater!"

"Understand--I forbid you."

She took his arm and they walked on, leaving the man standing by the
water-side. He did not follow them or repeat his dismal statement, only
let his head drop forward on his bosom, while his fingers twisted
themselves convulsively together.

Meanwhile a hot argument was proceeding between Mrs. Errington and
Horace. For once it seemed that the boy was inclined to defy his mother.

"Let me give him something--only a few coppers," he said.

"No; beggars ought not to be encouraged."

"That chap isn't a regular beggar. I'll wager anything it's true. He is
starving."

"Nonsense! They always say so."

"Mater--stop! I must----"

Horace paused resolutely and looked round. In the distance the man could
still be seen standing where they had left him, his head drooped, his
narrow shoulders hunched slightly forward.

"Let me run back," the boy went on; "I won't be a minute."

But Mrs. Errington's curious parsimony was roused now to full activity.

"I will not allow it," she said; "the man is probably a thief and a
drunkard. Hyde Park swarms with bad characters."

"Bad character or not, he's starving. Anyone can see that."

"Then let him starve. It's his own fault. Let him starve! Nobody need
unless they have committed some folly, or, worse, some crime. There's
bread enough for all who deserve to live. I have no sympathy with all
this preposterous pauperising which goes by the name of charity. It's a
fad, a fashion--nothing more."

She forced her son to walk on. As they went he cast a last glance back
at the beggar.

"Mater, you're