her mother, surprised. "Why, what were you doing
there, darling?"

"_Gwendolyn!_"--this in a faint gasp from both visitors.

Gwendolyn came slowly forward. She did not raise her eyes; only
curtsied.

"So _this_ is your little daughter!" A gloved hand was reached out, and
Gwendolyn was drawn forward. "How _cunning!_"

Gwendolyn recognized the voice of Louise. Now, she looked up. And saw a
pleasant face, young, but not so pretty as her mother's. She shook
hands bashfully. Then shook again with an older woman, whose plain
countenance was dimly familiar. After which, giving a sudden little
bound, and putting up eager arms, she was caught to her mother.

"My baby!"

"_Moth-er!_"

Cheek caressed cheek.

"She's six, isn't she, my dear?" asked the plain, elderly one.

"Oh, she's seven." A soft hand stroked the yellow hair.

"As much as that? Really?"

The inference was not lost upon Gwendolyn. She tightened her embrace.
And turning her head on her mother's breast, looked frank resentment.

The visitors were not watching her. They were exchanging glances--and
smiles, faint and uneasy. Slowly now they began to move toward the hall
door, which stood open. Beside it, waiting with an impressive air, was
Miss Royle.

"I think we must go, Louise."

"Oh, we must,"--quickly. "Dear me! I'd almost forgot! We've promised to
lunch with one or two people down-town."

"I wish you were lunching here," said Gwendolyn's mother. She freed
herself gently from the clinging arms and followed the two. "Miss Royle,
will you take Gwendolyn?"

As the governess promptly advanced, with a half-bow, and a set smile
that was like a grimace, Gwendolyn raised a face tense with earnestness.
Until half an hour before, her whole concern had been for herself. But
now! To fail to grow up, to have her long-cherished hopes come short of
fulfillment--that was _one_ thing. To know that her mother and father
had real and serious troubles of their own, that was another!

"Oh, moth-er! Don't _you_ go!"

"Mother must tell the ladies good-by."

"What touching affection!" It was the elder of the visiting pair.

Miss Royle assented with a simper.

"Will you come back?" urged Gwendolyn, dropping her voice. "Oh, I want
to see you"--darting a look sidewise--"all by myself."

There was a wheel and a flutter at the door--another silent exchange of
comment, question and exclamation, all mingled eloquently. Then Louise
swept back.

"What a bright child