soul.

So it came about that three months later, when May was melting into
June, Miss Ethel Lake arrived upon the scene as a result of the
Colonel's blundering good intentions. She brought with her a kind
disposition, a supreme ignorance of unordinary children, a large store
of self-confidence--and a corded yellow tin box.

CHAPTER II

MISS LAKE COMES--AND GOES

The conversation took place suddenly one afternoon, and no one knew
anything about it except the two who took part in it: the Colonel asked
the governess to try and knock the nonsense out of Jimbo's head, and the
governess promised eagerly to do her very best. It was her first
"place"; and by "nonsense" they both understood imagination. True
enough, Jimbo's mother had given her rather different instructions as to
the treatment of the boy, but she mistook the soldier's bluster for
authority, and deemed it best to obey him. This was her first mistake.

In reality she was not devoid of imaginative insight; it was simply that
her anxiety to prove a success permitted her better judgment to be
overborne by the Colonel's boisterous manner.

The wisdom of the mother was greater than that of her husband. For the
safe development of that tender and imaginative little boy of hers, she
had been at great pains to engage a girl--a clergyman's daughter--who
possessed sufficient sympathy with the poetic and dreamy nature to be of
real help to him; for true help, she knew, can only come from true
understanding. And Miss Lake was a good girl. She was entirely
well-meaning--which is the beginning of well-doing, and her principal
weakness lay in her judgment, which led her to obey the Colonel too
literally.

"She seems most sensible," he declared to his wife.

"Yes, dear."

"And practical."

"I think so."

"And firm and--er--wise with children."

"I hope so."

"Just the sort for young Jimbo," added the Colonel with decision.

"I trust so; she's a little young, perhaps."

"Possibly, but one can't get everything," said her husband, in his
horse-and-dog voice. "A year with her should clean out that fanciful
brain of his, and prepare him for school with other boys. He'll be all
right once he gets to school. My dear," he added, spreading out his
right hand, fingers extended, "you've made a most wise selection. I
congratulate you. I'm delighted."

"I'm so glad."

"Capital, I repeat, capital. You're a clever little woman. I knew you'd
find the right party,