ane went to the bell and rang it. A servant was desired
to have the carriage ordered immediately, and the unhappy and perplexed
governess was soon out of the house on her way to Dartford to see Dr.
Marshall or one of his assistants.

Meanwhile Irene, in the red dress she had worn all night, very much
crumpled, very much disheveled and soiled, sat down and fixed her bright
eyes on her parent.

"So she is not to go!"

"Was that why you did it, Irene?"

"Of course," said Irene in a laconic voice, "I'll have to think of
something else. She is an extraordinary woman is Frosty. I got rid of
Carter. You know how I got rid of her."

"You mustn't speak of it--it is too painful."

"Well, I'll have to get rid of Frosty."

"Now listen to me, Irene. Your governess is not to go."

"Mumsy dear, why that tone? You know you are a little bit afraid of your
Irene, aren't you?"

Irene danced up to her parent and looked at her with eyes bright as
stars. Suddenly she flung herself on her knees by her mother's side.

"You didn't by any chance come to see me in my little bed last night?"
she asked. "You didn't come perhaps in the early morning? You didn't
quote those well-known lines:

What does little birdie say
In its nest at peep of day?

Mumsy dear, did you?"

"No, Irene; I was occupied with other things--with sad, very sad
memories. This is the anniversary of your dear, your precious father's
death."

Irene had the grace to be silent for a moment. After a pause she said,
"I did remember that yesterday morning; and knowing that you'd be
frightfully dumpy--oh, mummy! you know you never are cheerful--I thought
I'd have a spree on my own account. So I tell you what I did, mothery."

Lady Jane looked with absolute fear into Irene's face. After a time her
eyes slowly welled up with tears.

"I can't imagine what I have done," she said. "I often wonder beyond
words why I am given such a very naughty child--a child who understands
me so very little, who cannot sympathize with my sorrows and cannot
understand my griefs, and who contrives to make others miserable. It is
your cruelty that is so terrible, Irene."

"My cruelty!" said Irene, opening her bright eyes wide. Something seemed
to hurt her. It was the first time Lady Jane had ever seen a spark of
real feeling in this extraordinary child. "Well, now, listen," she said.
"I spent the night with Rosamund--dear Rosamund Cunliffe."

"You ran away from home and spent t