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To him belonged Pippa and Sancie, Melot and Vicky. If he had a nearer passion, it was to stand well with all the world. That's two passions, however, to his score; and the struggle between them, in Sanchia's case, had taken him as near tragedy as the easy man could go. Heaven be praised, the good times were come again.
In November, Prince Frederick William and his Princess came over on a visit and the fond father wrote: "Vicky has developed greatly of late and yet remains quite a child; of such, indeed, 'is the kingdom of heaven." Of the Prince he said: "He has quite delighted us." So all was right then.
But Melusine Scales, the gentle creature, had written meekly of her joy; and Vicky Sinclair said to her husband, the captain "Sancie always tumbles on her feet. She always did like a sweet cat." Shrewd and affectionate at once, she alone had discerned the god's prerogative immanent in the youngest daughter of Thomas Welbore Percival.
Then the Prince of Wales was always 'Bertie, and the Princess Royal 'Vicky, and the family circle generally a group as loving and united without a trace of courtly stiffness as was to be found round any hearth in Britain.
But the two had become fast friends, and Winnie told me how they sat together chatting often for pleasant half hours at a time. I told Ruth about the strange boy at Vicky Van's house. "Yes," she said, "I've heard about him. Mr. Stone picked him up somewhere and he uses him as a sort of outside scout. He has all confidence in him, though I believe the little chap rejoices in the name of Fibber."
It was the merest chance that I had seen her, otherwise she would have escaped all observation. At three in the morning there are almost no people abroad in the quieter streets of the city, and Vicky had timed her visit well. Of course, she had her own keys, and I felt sure she had stealthily entered at the basement door, and waited her time to secure the letters from the mail-box.
Partly curiosity and partly a foreboding of harm to Vicky Van, made me rush forward. Mrs. Reeves had screamed, and I ran the length of the hall to the dining room. There I saw Somers on the floor, and Remson bending over him. "He's killed! He's stabbed!" cried Mrs. Reeves, clutching at my arm as I reached her. "Oh, what shall we do?"
But as I went out of my own door I left the house early, for I couldn't face Aunt Lucy and Winnie I suddenly decided it would be better to see Stone first and learn if anything had transpired since I left him. I rang the bell at Vicky Van's house with a terrible feeling of impending disaster, that might be worse than any yet known. Fibsy let me in.
"Oh, Vicky," said the boy, in his misery, stooping to caress his companion, "I ought to be court-martialled and dishonorably discharged from the service for this. I have done very wrong. I have lost our ponies for good." The dog licked his hand sympathetically, and then suddenly bounded away, barking, and Henry heard Frank's voice say: "Why, Tom, here's Vic!"
'Cause it's killin' me, an' I gotter get it over with. Well, all Mrs. Schuyler's things furnicher, I mean is big an' heavy an' massive, an' terrible expensive. Yes, I know her husband made her have it that way. But never mind that. Vicky Van's furnicher is all gay an' light an' pretty an' dainty colorin' and so forth.
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