short hand
pointed to ten, Nan could only shake her head, and say: "Well, I
suppose so--but it doesn't seem as if it could be."

It was so cold that Delia had brought an additional wrap for her, and
the girl was glad to avail herself of it when she felt the nip of the
freezing air.

"Why, it's much worse than it was this afternoon," she said. "If this
is spring, I'd just as lief have winter. I tell you what it is, Delia,
it won't take me long to tumble into bed. I'm frozen stiff already. I
hope you locked up before you came out, so all we'll have to do will be
to go upstairs. I hate to putter about in the cold."

It seemed strange to go to bed without Miss Blake's cheery
"Good-night!" ringing in her ears. It was the first time the governess
had spent a night away from home since she first came to the house,
almost six months ago, and Nan devoutly hoped there wouldn't be a
repetition of the performance in another half-year. Her empty room
gave one "les homeseeks."

In order to forget it and to escape the cold, Nan cut short her
preparations for the night and got into bed with as little delay as
possible. She cuddled comfortably between her smooth sheets and soft
blankets and in a moment was soundly asleep.

When she waked the next morning it was with a vague feeling of
responsibility, as though she had gone to sleep with a weight of some
calamity on her heart. As she dressed she tried to recall it but there
was nothing in yesterday's experience to depress her and she ran down
to breakfast determined to shake off the haunting impression. But all
through the meal it clung to her and she could not get rid of it. To
be especially virtuous in Miss Blake's absence and show her that she
was "dependable," she took the dish-washing upon herself and got
through with it speedily. Then up to her room to set that in order,
and then down to the conservatory to attend to the plants.

It was just as this juncture that Delia heard a wild cry of distress
ring through the house. She ran upstairs in a fright and found Nan
standing at the threshold of the conservatory door gazing in and
wringing her hands. The sight that met her eyes was a pitiful one.
There was not one plant among them all that had outlived the night.
The leaves of all were frozen black.

CHAPTER XVIII

"CHESTER NEWCOMB"

"Oh, do you think I could?" demanded Nan, eagerly.

Miss Blake considered a moment. "I don't see any reason why it migh