obeyed. And waltzed up to the bill-board. "Say! what's the price of
that big braid?" she called--between her tortoise-shell teeth. She had
spied the red coronet, and was admiring its plaited beauty.

From under those long, square brows, the little old gentleman frowned
across the table at her. "I'll quote you no prices," he answered. "You
haven't paid me yet for your extra face."

Jane's reply was an impudent double-laugh. She was examining the
different things on the bill-board, and hopping sillily from foot to
foot.

Gwendolyn tugged gently at a coat-tail. "Can't we run now?" she asked;
"and hide?"

_Boom-er-oom-er-oom!_

"Sh!" warned the Man-Who-Makes-Faces, not stirring. "What was that!"

"I don't know."

Both held their breath. And Gwendolyn took a more firm hold of the
lip-case.

After a moment the little old gentleman began to speak very low: "We
shan't be able to steal away. She's watching us out of the back of her
head!"

"Yes. I can see 'em shine!"

"I believe that when she rolled her eyes from one face to the other it
made that _rumbley sound_."

"Scares me," whispered Gwendolyn.

"Ump!" he grunted. "Ought to cheer you up. For it's my opinion that her
eyes rumble _because her head's empty_."

"If it was hollow I think I'd know," she answered doubtfully. "You see
she's been my nurse a long time. But--would it help?"

"_Find out_," he advised. "And if it's a fact, your mother ought to
know."

_Boom-er-oom-er-oom!_

Gwendolyn, watching, saw two shining spots in Jane's back face grow
suddenly small--to the size of glinting pin-points; then disappear. The
nurse turned, and came dancing back.

"You'd better let me have that braid, old man," she cried rudely.

"I'll smooth down your saucy tongue," he threatened.

"Tee! hee! hee! hee!" she tittered. "Ha! ha! ha!"

Gwendolyn had heard her laugh before. But it was the first time she had
_seen_ her laugh. The Man-Who-Makes-Faces, too. Now, at the same moment,
both witnessed an extraordinary thing: As Jane chuckled, she lifted one
stout arm so that a black sateen cuff was close to the mouth of the
front face. And holding it there, actually _laughed in her sleeve!_

Laughed in her sleeve--_and a great deal more!_ For with each chuckle,
from the top of her red head to her very feet, _she grew a trifle more
plump!_

The little old gentleman warned her with one long finger. "You look
out, young lady!" said he. "One of these days you'll laugh on