er keep it. Then, again, she was directly responsible for
Louie's disappointment, and this seemed to her, as Ruth had intended it
should seem, a compelling conclusion. If she had been older her
reasoning would not have stopped here, but, as it was, she perceived
only two sides to the question, and this that Ruth had just presented
seemed infinitely more convincing than the one Miss Blake had tried to
make clear to her. Ruth's logic she could understand; the governess'
seemed vague and incomprehensible. In one case she had been coerced
into making a promise from which she had later been absolved; in the
other she had given her word of her own free will, and she was being
stoutly held to it. There were other influences at work, but Nan did
not know it. She honestly believed she was waiving all considerations
but those with which her duty was concerned, and she thought she had
done so when she broke out with a sort of impatient groan:

"Oh, dear! I never saw such a tangle!"

"Well," returned Ruth grimly, "I don't know anything about that, but
whatever it may be, I've got the strong end of the line and I mean to
hold it. You've just got to go and that's all there is to it."

Nan gave a rueful laugh. She more than half-liked to have Ruth leave
her no alternative. It somehow made her seem less responsible to
herself. If the decision were taken out of her hands she could not be
held accountable and--the enjoyment would be there all the same.

"I wish you'd let me off, Ruth," she protested weakly, as a sort of
last sop to her conscience.

Ruth saw that she had prevailed and gave her head a triumphant toss.
"Well, I won't, so there! And what's more I can't stand here wasting
time like this another minute. I have a hundred things to do before
eight o'clock, so good-bye! Be sure you're on time for we won't wait a
second, and if you don't arrive none of us will ever speak to you
again, so there!"

Nan stood dumbly stubbing her toe into a little mound of snow quite a
minute after Ruth had left her. She had not even glanced up when, in
response to her friend's last declaration, she had said, "Very well;
I'll be on hand," and her voice had sounded so flat and lifeless that
Ruth thought it better to hasten off before the words could be
recalled. When Nan spoke in that half-hearted tone Ruth had no faith
in her strength of purpose. She walked home in a doubtful frame of
mind, wondering if, after all, the promise w