between you and me, I had a very nice time with them."

Violet thereupon began making some inquiries regarding the doll family
before her, and quite an entertaining conversation was kept up for
several minutes, greatly to the amusement of Mr. Lawrence and the maid,
who had never before seen a would-be-governess put herself so _en
rapport_ with her prospective pupil. They had always seemed to think
they must be "stiff" and "proper," as Bertha had said.

"Do you play the organ and piano, and can you sing?" Bertha inquired,
eagerly, after the subject of dolls had been exhausted.

"Yes; would you like me to play you something?" Violet asked, as she
began to draw off her gloves.

"Yes, yes!" cried the child, an earnest look of expectation and pleasure
flashing into her face.

Violet went directly to a fine Steinway piano that was in the room, and
without the slightest consciousness or embarrassment, thinking only of
contributing to the young girl's employment, played a couple of
selections with great expression and correctness.

"Now sing," commanded Miss Bertha, upon the conclusion of the second
piece; and Violet sang a lovely little ballad in her clear, pure,
cultivated tones.

There was not a sound in the room until the last note died away; then
Bertha exclaimed, in a voice that thrilled with feeling:

"Oh, that was beautiful!"

Violet glanced at her, and saw that great tears were rolling down her
cheeks, and she told herself that there must be much of good in a nature
that could be so affected by music.

She could easily perceive that she had a strong will and was of a
somewhat arbitrary temperament; but she believed that she had been
antagonized and confirmed in these faults by unwise government.

She went again to her side, saying in a tender tone:

"You are fond of music, aren't you, dear?" and as she spoke she gently
wiped her tears away with her own dainty handkerchief.

The child, moved by some sudden impulse, caught her hand and kissed it
passionately.

"I like you, Miss Huntington, and you shall stay with me!" she cried.

"Bertha," interposed her father, reprovingly, "you should not speak in
such a way, and that is a matter which Miss Huntington will have to
decide for herself."

"Will you stay?" urged Bertha, appealingly, and still clinging to the
hand she had kissed.

"Yes, dear, if you think that you could be happy with me," Violet
answered, and Bertha asserted confidently that she could-