ancy you are very proficient."

"I like to skate, and I guess I can do it pretty well. My father
taught me--to do figures and things. I don't know any one who can
skate as well as my father!" said Nan, with pardonable pride.

"I used to skate a great deal when I lived in Holland," Miss Blake
observed. "There every one is so expert that I used to feel like a
great bungler. Seeing others do so beautifully made me feel as though
I were particularly awkward, and I really did keep in the background
because I was so ashamed of my clumsy performances. Perhaps though,
that was only an excuse for my not being able to do better, and one
ought not to offer excuses, ought one? Is there any pond near here on
which we might skate?"

Nan's eyes gleamed.

"Why, yes," she said. "We could go to the Park, or if you didn't want
to go there, there's a sort of a pond they call the 'Steamer,' quite
near here. Lots of people skate on it, and it's lovely fun. And
there's a place the other side of the Boulevard, where you can coast
beautifully. It's a jolly hill. We take our bobs there, and--the boys
and me--and--"

"I," suggested Miss Blake, casually--"the boys and I."

Nan blinked her eyes. The correction, however, passed by unresented.

"The folks here think it isn't nice for me to bob, and--and things.
They think it's rough!"

"Perhaps," ventured Miss Blake, "that may be because they have seen it
done in a rough way, or by rough persons. You know a great deal
depends upon how you do a thing."

Again Nan blinked her eyes. She was thinking as she had the night
before:

"Pooh! I can manage her," while Miss Blake, quite unconscious of what
was going on in her pupil's mind, continued: "I think if the weather
holds, we may have some very good sport, you and I. Don't you think
so? And now run upstairs and smooth your hair and wash your hands, for
Delia will have luncheon ready very shortly, and one must make one's
self tidy for meals, you know."

And then a very singular thing occurred. Nan found herself on the
stairs in obedience to the governess' command almost before she was
aware, and she proceeded to make herself tidy, with no thought of
refusal at all.

But at luncheon came the first tug-of-war.

Nan was about to repeat her performance of the morning, namely, to push
her chair aside when she had finished eating and unceremoniously leave
the table.

"Oh, pardon me!" interposed Miss Blake, quickly. "Please