ke!" burst out Gwendolyn; and covered her eyes once more.

"_Gwen-do-lyn!_" breathed Miss Royle.

Gwendolyn sat very still.

"How _can_ you be so naughty! Oh, it's really wicked and ungrateful of
you to be fretting and complaining--you who have _so_ many blessings!
But you don't appreciate them because you've always had them.
Well,"--mournfully solicitous--"I trust they'll never be taken from you,
my child. Ah, _I_ know how bitter such a loss is! I haven't _always_
been in my present circumstances, compelled to go out among strangers to
earn a scant living. Once--"

Here she was interrupted. The door from the school-room swung wide with
a bang. Gwendolyn, looking up, saw her nurse.

Jane was in sharp contrast to Miss Royle--taller and stocky, with broad
shoulders and big arms. As she halted against the open school-room door,
her hair was as ruddy as the panel that made a background for it. And
she had reddish eyes, and a full round face. In the midst of her face,
and all out of proportion to it, was her short turned-up nose, which was
plentifully sprinkled with freckles.

"So you're goin' out?" she began angrily, addressing the governess.

Miss Royle retreated a step. "Just for a--a couple of hours," she
explained.

Jane's face grew almost as red as her hair. Slamming the school-room
door behind her, she advanced. "I suppose it's the neuralgia again," she
suggested with quiet heat.

The color stole into Miss Royle's pale cheeks. She coughed. "It _is_ a
little worse than usual this afternoon," she admitted.

"I thought so," said Jane. "It's always worse--_on bargain-days_."

"How _dare_ you!"

"You ask me that, do you?--you old snake-in-the-grass!" Now Jane grew
pallid with anger.

Gwendolyn, listening, contemplated her governess thoughtfully. She had
often heard her pronounced a snake-in-the-grass.

Miss Royle was also pale. "That will do!" she declared. "I shall report
you to Madam."

"Report!" echoed Jane, giving a loud, harsh laugh, and shaking her
hair--the huge pompadour in front, the pug behind. "Well, go ahead. And
I'll report _you_--and your handy neuralgia."

"It's your duty to look after Gwendolyn when there are no lessons,"
reminded Miss Royle, but weakening noticeably.

"On _week_-days?" shrilled Jane. "Oh, don't try to fool me with any of
your schemin'! _I_ see. And I just laugh in my sleeve!"

Gwendolyn fixed inquiring gray eyes upon that sleeve of Jane's dress
which was the nearer.