but on the prospect her
words had opened to me.

"Do you mean that the Baroness won't be my governess any more?"

"Yes. You'll have a governor, a tutor."

"And shall I----?"

"I'll tell you all about it soon, dear."

The rest of our drive was in silence. My mind was full to overflowing of
impressions, hopes, and wonders; my mother's gaze was fixed on the
windows of the carriage.

We reached home, and together went up to the schoolroom. It was not
tea-time yet, and lesson-books were on the table. Krak sat beside it,
grave, grim, and gray. Victoria was opposite to her. Victoria was
crying. Past experience enlightened me; I knew exactly what had
happened; Victoria had a delightfully unimpressionable soul; no rebuke
from Krak brought her to tears; Krak had been rapping her knuckles, and
her tears were an honest tribute to pain, with no nonsense of merely
wounded sensibility about them. My mother went up and whispered to
Krak. Krak had, of course, risen, and stood now listening with a heavy
frown. My mother drew herself up proudly; she seemed to brace herself
for an effort; I heard nothing except "I think you should consult me,"
but our quick children's eyes apprehended the meaning of the scene. Krak
was being bearded. There was no doubt of it; for presently Krak bowed
her head in a jerky unwilling nod and walked out of the room. My mother
stood still for a moment with a vivid red colour in her cheeks. Then she
walked across to Victoria, lifted one of her hands from the table, and
kissed it.

"You're going to have tea with me to-day, children," said she, "and
we'll play games afterward. Augustin shall play at not being a king."

I remember well the tea we had and the games that followed, wherein we
all played at being what we were not, and for an evening cheated fate of
its dues. My mother was merriest, for over Victoria and myself there
hung a veil of unreality, a consciousness that indeed we played and set
aside for an hour only the obstinate claims of the actual. But we were
all merry; and when we parted--for my mother had a dinner-party--we both
kissed her heartily; me she kissed often. I thought that she wanted to
ask me again whether I liked the Countess better than her, but was
afraid to risk the question. What I wanted to say was that I liked none
better if she would be always what she was this evening; but I found no
skill adequate to a declaration of affection so conditional. It would be
to make a market