her.

"They're getting ready to go out to lunch. They can't be disturbed now.
You can sit here, or walk around until lunch time. You'll know when
that is ready, because the gong will sound in the hall. Now when you go
downstairs be careful not to touch the tall clock on the landing. That
is a very valuable chiming clock, and you mustn't open its doors, for
fear you would break something. Then if you go into the parlor you must
never play on the piano unless you ask somebody, for fear Mr. Evringham
might be trying to take a nap just at that time; then you mustn't go
into the barn without permission, for it's dangerous where the horses
are, and you might get kicked. If you're tired from your journey you can
lie down now till lunch time; but whenever you do lie down, be sure to
turn off this white spread, for fear you might soil it. Now I'm very
busy, and I shan't see you again till lunch."

Mrs. Forbes departed and Jewel stood for half a minute motionless,
feeling rather dazed by a novel sensation of resentment.

"As if we were babies!" she whispered to her doll. "She's the most
afraid woman I ever saw, and she looks so _sorry_! She isn't our
relation, so no matter, dearie, what she says. This is father's room,
and we can think how he used to run around here when he was a little
boy."

Tiptoeing to the door, Jewel closed it and began to inspect her new
apartment.

The sweet smelling soap on the marble stand, the silver mountings of the
faucets, the large fine towels, the empty closet and drawers, all looked
inviting. Throughout her examination the little girl kept pausing to
listen.

Surely aunt Madge and cousin Eloise would look in before they went out
to their engagement. Mother had so often said how nice it was that they
were there. Surely they didn't know that she had arrived. That was it,
of course; and Mrs. Forbes was so sorry and anxious she would probably
forget to tell them.

Some altercation was just then going on in the apartments of those
ladies.

"We ought to speak to her before we go," said Mrs. Evringham
persuasively. "Father would probably resent it if we didn't."

"I have told you already," returned Eloise, "that I do not intend doing
one thing henceforward that grandfather could interpret as being done to
please him."

"But that is carrying it ridiculously far, not to greet your cousin, who
has come from a journey and is your guest."

"My guest!" returned the girl derisively. "We are hers