grimy hand, and finding her pocket
handkerchief, tried to wipe her face.

"What freak is this, Gwen? Whatever will you do next?" continued
Beatrice.

"I didn't expect you here till I'd finished," answered Gwen, sitting
down exhaustedly on a form.

"You know I often come to practise the hymns, now Winnie takes the
mission-room at Basingwold. That doesn't explain why you're washing
the floor."

"I wanted you to see that I could do it. I thought perhaps you'd let
me scrub every week, and pay me instead of Mrs. Cass," said Gwen,
blurting out her scheme in the baldest outline.

Beatrice took another comprehensive glance at her sister's
disreputable figure, then sat down hilariously.

"You needn't laugh so--I mean it seriously," protested Gwen. "I want
the money."

"Oh! oh! You look so funny!" screamed Beatrice; then, suddenly
sobering down, she changed her tone. "I couldn't help laughing," she
continued, "but it was a good thing it was only I who came in and
caught you in this dirty mess. What prompted you to be so silly?"

"I've told you already."

"Gwen, don't be idiotic! How could you scrub the school every week.
Besides, we couldn't take the work away from Mrs. Cass. She'd be most
indignant She needs the money badly, poor body, with that large family
to keep."

This was an utterly new aspect of the case that had not before
occurred to Gwen.

"I want money too," she groaned.

"So do I, and so does Dad, and so do we all, but we can't get it,"
replied Beatrice rather tartly. "We have to make up our minds to go
without. You're no worse off than the rest of us."

Gwen paused. A half impulse was stirring within her to tell her sister
her difficulties. If only Beatrice looked a little more sympathetic!

"How do you know I'm no worse off?" she began.

"I've no patience with you, Gwen! You're always thinking about
yourself! You've done a silly, mad prank to-day, and I don't know what
Mrs. Cass will say when she arrives. Really, at your age you ought to
know better and remember your dignity. You're not a child now, though
I'm sure you behave like one. Go and put that bucket and
scrubbing-brush away, and wash your face before you walk home. I shall
have to explain to Mrs. Cass, or she'll think I've been giving her
work to another charwoman. It would be enough to make her leave the
church! She's fearfully touchy. I wonder when you'll learn sense."

Very crestfallen, Gwen turned away. No, it was quite impossible