,
realizing now, of certain royal traits they had always noted in her--her
haughty spirit that never brooked an insult, her independence, her utter
fearlessness, the reckless bravery of a long line of kings, and--and
even that very disinclination for study which they had stupidly fancied
indicated that Sissy Madigan was her superior! What would Princess Irene
want with vulgar fractions, a common denominator, and such low subjects?

"What makes you wrinkle up your nose that way, Split?" Florence's voice
broke in complainingly on her sister's reverie. She glanced up the
incline of the see-saw to the height whence Irene looked down,
physically as well as socially, upon her faithful retainer and the
straggling little town.

Irene did not answer. She was busy dreaming, and her dreams were of the
turned-up-nose variety.

"Don't, Split! It makes you look like a--what Sissy just now called
you." The smaller sister's eyes fell, as though seeking corroboration
from the middle of the board, where Sissy had been so lately acting as
"candle-stick"--lately, for the incident had ended (no game being
enticing enough to hold these two long in an unnatural state of
neutrality) in Split's washing Sissy's face vigorously in the snow, and
Sissy's calling her elder sister "nothing but an old Indian!" as she ran
weeping into the house with the familiar parting threat to get even
before bedtime. No Madigan could bear that the sun should set on her
wrath; she preferred that all scores should be paid off, so that the
slate might be clean for to-morrow's reckonings.

"Fom," said her big sister, slowly, when she was quite ready to speak,
"I think you'd better call me 'Irene.' You'd feel gladder about it when
I'm gone."

"Where?" At this minute it was Fom's turn to be dangerously high, and
she wriggled to the uttermost end of the plank to counterbalance her
sister's weight.

[Illustration:
"She glanced up the incline of the see-saw to the height
whence Irene looked down"]

A mysterious smile overspread Irene's face. It became broadly triumphant
as she rose presently on the short end of the board, her arms daringly
outspread, her toes upturned in front of her, her agile body well
balanced, her spirit exulting in the sense of danger without and
superiority within.

"When?" asked Florence, with that amiable readiness to consider a
question unasked, so becoming to the vassal. "When are you going?"

"To-night--maybe." Her ow