“But what is that man for?”
“He’s an old friend of mother’s.”
“I like him,” said Michael confidently.
“Do you, darling?” said his mother, and then suddenly she kissed him.
That evening when Michael’s prayers were concluded and he was lying very still in his bed, he waited for his mother’s tale.
“Once upon a time,” she began, “there was a very large and enormous forest——”
“No, don’t tell about a forest,” Michael interrupted. “Tell about that man in the picture.”
Mrs. Fane was staring out of the window, and after a moment’s hesitation she turned round.
“Because there are fairy-tales without a prince,” said Michael apologetically.
“Well, once upon a time,” said his mother, “there lived in an old old country house three sisters whose mother had died when they were quite small.”