rked.

"It was the first time I'd ever seen her," said Gwendolyn, with the
nurse still in mind. "Doesn't she smile nice!"

Now, Thomas waxed enthusiastic. "And she's a lot prettier close to," he
declared, "than she is with a street between. Ah, you ought--"

That moment, Jane entered, fairly darting in.

"Here!" she called sharply to Gwendolyn. "What're you eatin'?"

"Peanuts, Jane,"--perfect frankness being the rule when concealment was
not possible.

Jane came over. "And where'd you git 'em?" she demanded, promptly
seizing the bag as contraband.

"Thomas."

Sudden suspicion flamed in Jane's red glance. "Oh, you must've did
Thomas a _grand_ turn," she observed.

Thomas shifted from foot to foot. "I was--er--um--just tellin' Miss
Gwendolyn"--he winked significantly--"that she wouldn't like to lose
us."

"So?" said Jane, still sceptical. Then to Gwendolyn, after a moment's
reflection. "Let me close up your dictionary for you, pettie. Jane never
likes to see one of your fine books lyin' open that way. It might put a
strain on the back."

Emboldened by that cooing tone, Gwendolyn eyed the Manila bag
covetously. "I didn't eat many," she asserted, gently argumentative.

"Oh, a peanut or two won't hurt you, lovie," answered Jane, kneeling to
present the bag. Then drawing the pink-frocked figure close, "And you
_didn't_ tell him what them two ladies had to say?"

"No." It was decisive, "I told him about--"

"I didn't ask her," interrupted Thomas. "No; I talked about how she
loves us. And a-course, she does.... Jane, ain't it near twelve?"

But Gwendolyn had no mind to be held as a tattler. "I told him," she
continued, husking peanuts busily, "about the nurse-maid at the brick
house."

Jane sat back.

"Ah?" She flashed a glance at Thomas, still shifting about uneasily
mid-way between table and door. Then, "What _about_ the nurse-maid,
dearie?"

It was Gwendolyn's turn to wax enthusiastic. "Oh, she has _such_ sweet
hair!" she exclaimed. "And she smiles nice!"

Jealousy hardened the freckled visage of the kneeling Jane. "And she's
taken with you, I suppose," said she.

"She threw me kisses," recounted Gwendolyn, crunching happily the while.
"And, oh, Jane, some day may I go over to the brick house?"

"Some day you may--_not_."

Gwendolyn recognized the sudden change to belligerence; and foreseeing a
possible loss of the peanuts, commenced to eat more rapidly. "Well,
then," she persisted, "she could c