y. Added to this, he was one
whom kings could not corrupt.' That is an enviable record."

Claire's eyes filled with grateful moisture, but she did not allow them
to overflow. She nodded rapidly once or twice in a quaint,
characteristic little fashion, and then sat silent, examining the links
in her silver-meshed purse, with elaborate attention.

"Perhaps Mrs. Slawson has told you that my young nephew is something of
a pickle."

The question restored Claire at once. "I'm fond of pickles."

"Good! I believe there are said to be fifty-eight varieties. Are you
prepared to smack your lips over him, whichever he may be?"

"Well, if I can't smack my lips, there's always the alternative of
smacking _him_."

Mr. Ronald laughed. "Not allowed," he announced regretfully. "My sister
won't have it. Radcliffe is to be guided 'by love alone.'"

"Whose love, please? His or mine?"

Again Mr. Ronald laughed. "Now you've got me!" he admitted. "Perhaps a
little of both. Do you think you could supply your share? I have no
doubt of your being able to secure his."

"I like children. We've always managed to hit it off pretty well, the
kiddies and I, but, of course, I can't guarantee anything definite in
connection with your little boy, because, you see, I've never been a
governess before. I've only had to do with youngsters who've come
a-visiting, or else the small, lower East-siders at the Settlement. But
I'll promise to do my best."

"'Who does the best his circumstance allows, does well, acts nobly.
_Angles_ could no more,' as I wrote in my sister's autograph-album when
I was a boy," announced Mr. Ronald gravely.

Claire smiled over at him with appreciation. "I'd love to come and try,"
she said heartily.

She did not realize she had lost all sensation of alarm, had forgotten
her altered position, that she was no longer one whom these people would
regard as their social equal. She was talking as one talks to a friend.

"And if Radcliffe doesn't get on--if he doesn't improve, I should
say--if you don't _like_ me, you can always send me away, you know."

For a very long moment Mr. Ronald sat silent. So long a moment, indeed,
that Claire, waiting in growing suspense for his answer, suddenly
remembered all those things she had forgotten, and her earlier
embarrassment returned with a wave of bitter self-reproach. She accused
herself of having been too free. She had overstepped her privilege. It
was not apparent to her that he was