It was of black sateen. It fitted the stout arm
sleekly.

"This is the dear child's birthday, and I wish her to have the afternoon
free."

"A-a-ah! Then why don't you take her out with you? You like the
auto_mo_bile nice enough,"--this sneeringly.

Miss Royle tossed her head. "I thought perhaps _you'd_ be using the
car," she answered, with fine sarcasm.

Jane began to argue, throwing out both hands: "How was _I_ to know
to-day was her birthday? You might've told me about it; instead, just
all of a sudden, you shove her off on my hands."

Gwendolyn's eyes narrowed resentfully.

Miss Royle gave a quick look toward the window-seat. "You mean you've
made plans?" she asked, concern supplanting anger in her voice.

To all appearances Jane was near to tears. She did not answer. She
nodded dejectedly.

"Well, Jane, you shall have to-morrow afternoon," declared Miss Royle,
soothingly. "Is _that_ fair? I didn't know you'd counted on to-day.
So--" Here another glance shot window-ward. Then she beckoned Jane. They
went into the hall. And Gwendolyn heard them whispering together.

When Jane came back into the nursery she looked almost cheerful. "Now
off with that habit," she called to Gwendolyn briskly. "And into
something for your dinner."

"I want to wear a plaid dress," announced Gwendolyn, getting down from
her seat slowly.

Jane was selecting a white muslin from a tall wardrobe. "Little girls
ain't wearin' plaids this year," she declared shortly. "Come."

"Well, then, I want a dress that's got a pocket," went on Gwendolyn,
"--a pocket 'way down on this side." She touched the right skirt of her
riding-coat.

"They ain't makin' pockets in little girls' dresses this year," said
Jane, "Come! Come!"

"'They,'" repeated Gwendolyn. "Who are 'They'? I'd like to know; 'cause
I could telephone 'em and--"

"Hush your nonsense!" bade Jane. Then, catching at the delicate square
of linen in Gwendolyn's hand, "How'd you git ink smeared over your
handkerchief? What do you suppose your mamma'd say if she was to come
upon it? _I'd_ be blamed--_as_ usual!"

"Who are They'?" persisted Gwendolyn. "'They' do so _many_ things. And I
want to tell 'em that I like pockets in _all_ my dresses."

Jane ignored the question.

"Yesterday you said 'They' would send us soda-water," went on
Gwendolyn--talking to herself now, rather than to the nurse. "And I'd
like to know where 'They' _find_ soda-water." Whereupon she fell to
pondering