ffended pride--which is not natural to it!
And go at once, then drop the subject and forget it. We were all so
thankful that you chose her this morning without knowing."

Back came the smiles as Miss Muriel hoped to see them, and away sped
Dorothy to put the good advice in practice; and five minutes later
Gwendolyn was the happiest girl at Oak Knowe, because her gifts had
been ascribed to real affection only.

"Now, Gwen, that we've settled _that_, let's go and see what we can do
for Robin. Heigho, Winifred! you're just in time to aid a worthy
cause--Come on to Lady Principal!"

"Exactly whither I was bound!" waving a letter overhead. "Going
a-begging, my dears, if you please!" she returned, clasping Gwen's
waist on one side to walk three abreast. A trivial action in itself
but delightful to the "Peer," showing that this free-spoken "Commoner"
no longer regarded her as "stand-offish" but "just one of the crowd."

"Begging for what, Win?"

"That's a secret!"

"Pooh! You might as well tell. Secrets always get found out. I've just
discovered one--by way of chattering Millikins-Pillikins. Guess it."

"I couldn't, Dolly, I'm too full of my own. As for that child's
talk--but half of it has sense."

"So I thought, too, listening to her. But _half did_ have sense and
that is--Who do you think gave me my beautiful toboggan things?"

"Why, your Aunt Betty, I suppose, since she does everything else for
you," answered Winifred promptly. "Anyhow, don't waste time on
guesses--Tell!"

Then she glanced up into Gwendolyn's face and saw how happy it was,
and hastily added:

"No, you needn't tell, after all, I know. It was Gwen, here, the
big-hearted dear old thing! She's the only girl at Oak Knowe who's
rich enough and generous enough to do such a splendid thing."

"Good for you, Win, you guessed right at once!" answered Dolly trying
to clap her hands but unable to loosen them from her comrades' clasp.
"Now for yours!"

"Wait till we get to the 'audience chamber'! Come on."

But even yet they were hindered. In the distance, down at the end of
the hall, Dorothy caught sight of Mr. Gilpin, evidently just departing
from the house. A more dejected figure could scarcely be imagined, nor
a more ludicrous one, as he limped toward the entrance, hands on hips
and himself bent forward forlornly. Below his rough top-coat which he
had discarded on his arrival, hung the tatters of his smock that had
been worn to ribbons by his roll