"Oh, he vanished as oddly as he came, and has never been found. A
strange story, lad. Keep silent, and let it rest."

"No fear of my tattling," and the boy smiled curiously to himself as he
bent over the book, polishing the brassbound cover.

"What are you doing with that pretty white wax?" asked Lillian the next
day, as she came upon Paul in a quiet corner of the garden and found him
absorbed in some mysterious occupation.

With a quick gesture he destroyed his work, and, banishing a momentary
expression of annoyance, he answered in his accustomed tone as he began
to work anew, "I am molding a little deer for you, Miss Lillian. See,
here is a rabbit already done, and I'll soon have a stag also."

"It's very pretty! How many nice things you can do, and how kind you are
to think of my liking something new. Was this wax what you went to get
this morning when you rode away so early?" asked the child.

"Yes, Miss Lillian. I was ordered to exercise your pony and I made him
useful as well. Would you like to try this? It's very easy."

Lillian was charmed, and for several days wax modeling was her favorite
play. Then she tired of it, and Paul invented a new amusement, smiling
his inexplicable smile as he threw away the broken toys of wax.

"You are getting pale and thin, keeping such late hours, Paul. Go to
bed, boy, go to bed, and get your sleep early," said Hester a week
afterward, with a motherly air, as Paul passed her one morning.