th him in the eyes
of Fraulein Pfaff. As she took her glasses from his outstretched hand
she felt that Fraulein would recognise that they had established a kind
of friendliness. She halted for a moment at the door, adjusting her
glasses, amiably uncertain, feeling for something to say.

Pastor Lahmann was standing in the middle of the room examining his
nails. Fraulein, at the window, was twitching a curtain into place. She
turned and drove Miriam from the room with speechless waiting eyes.

The sunlight was streaming across the hall. It seemed gay and home-like.
Pastor Lahmann had made her forget she was a governess. He had treated
her as a girl. Fraulein's eyes had spoiled it. Fraulein was angry about
it for some extraordinary reason.

CHAPTER VII

"Don't let her _do_ it, Miss Henderson."

Fraulein Pfaff's words broke the silence accompanying the servant's
progress from Gertrude whose soup-plate she had first seized, to Miriam
more than half-way down the table.

Startled into observation Miriam saw the soup-spoon of her neighbour
whisked, dripping, from its plate to the uppermost of Marie's pile and
Emma shrinking back with a horrified face against Jimmie who was leaning
forward entranced with watching.... The whole table was watching. Marie,
having secured Emma's plate to the base of her pile clutched Miriam's
spoon. Miriam moved sideways as the spoon swept up, saw the desperate
hard, lean face bend towards her for a moment as her plate was seized,
heard an exclamation of annoyance from Fraulein and little sounds from
all round the table. Marie had passed on to Clara. Clara received her
with plate and spoon held firmly together and motioned her before she
would relinquish them, to place her load upon the shelf of the lift.

Miriam felt she was in disgrace with the whole table.... She sat,
flaring, rapidly framing phrase after phrase for the lips of her judges
... "slow and awkward"... "never has her wits about her"....

"Don't let her do it, Miss Henderson...." Why should Fraulein fix upon
_her_ to teach her common servants? Struggling through her resentment
was pride in the fact that she did not know how to handle soup-plates.
Presently she sat refusing absolutely to accept the judgment silently
assailing her on all hands.

"You are not very domesticated, Miss Henderson."

"No," responded Miriam quietly, in joy and fear.

Fraulein gave a short laugh.

Goaded, Miriam plunged forward.

"We we