The man laughed carelessly. "No need to apologize," he said. "I was only wondering what sort of a chap I appeared to you."

She did not answer, and he went on: "You're thinking that I'm to be envied with this car and all the other things you can imagine I've got stored up at home—eh?"

Faith clasped her hands.

"I think you must be the happiest man in the world," she said fervently.

The man smiled grimly. "Yes, that's what everyone thinks," he said. "And, of course, you would not believe me if I were to tell you that there is no man in the world so poor as I am."

She stared at him with wide eyes of incredulity.

"Why, no!" she breathed.

His eyes softened a little. "Have you got a mother?" he asked abruptly.

"Yes."

"And do you love her?"

"Oh, yes!" said Faith.

"Anyone else—any other people?" he asked.

"Two little sisters," said Faith, and her voice was eager. She loved to speak of her sisters. "They're just the dearest little mites," she urged. "They're twins, just turned six."

The man nodded. "In fact, when you're at home, you're happy, eh?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," said Faith again, earnestly. "If only we'd got a little more money, we'd all be quite, quite happy," she added wistfully.

The man said: "Then it's you who are to be envied, not me!"

She colored a little. "I don't understand," she said in a whisper.

He laughed. "Do you know the story of King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

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