"Try me," said Sheila quickly.

He looked at her with a long and searching look. Then he sighed.

"Some day maybe I will. Run away to bed now."

Sheila felt as if she had been pushed away from a half-opened door.
She drew herself up and walked across the huge flowers of the carpet.
But before going out she turned back. Sylvester quickly banished a
sly smile.

"You won't be angry with Dickie?" she asked.

"Not if it's going to deal you any misery, little girl."

"You're _very_ kind to me."

He put up his hand. "That's all right, Miss Sheila," he said. "That's all
right. It's a real pleasure and comfort to me to have you here and I'll
try to shape things so they'll suit you--and Momma too. Trust _me_. But
don't you ask me to put any faith in Dickie's upper story. I've climbed
up there too often. I'll give up my plan to go round there to-morrow
and--" He paused grimly.

"And bawl him out?" suggested Sheila with one of her Puckish impulses.

"Hump! I was going a little further than that. He would likely have done
the bawlin'. But don't you worry yourself about Dickie. He's safe for
this time--so long's you don't blame me, or--The Aura."