t last, with breathless vehemence.
"You've no right here. When my father comes he'll send you right away.
You see if he don't!"

She flung herself in a paroxysm of anger out of the room.

Miss Blake ate her dinner, it is true, but perhaps it was scarcely
strange that her relish of it was not great. Every mouthful seemed to
choke her. Delia saw her hand tremble as she raised her tumbler of
water to her lips.

"This'll make you sick, dearie, this striving with Nan. She'll never
give in! Her will is that strong."

But the governess shook her head.

Nan ate no dinner that night, and the next day she slept late; that is,
she remained in bed late. Lying there cross and unhappy, she heard
sounds of voices in Miss Blake's room. Occasionally there were other
sounds as well; sounds of hammering and the moving of furniture across
the floor.

When Nan was "good and ready" she rose and strolled down stairs with an
air of nonchalance that was for Miss Blake's benefit, should she chance
to see.

She found the dining-room in perfect order and the kitchen deserted.
No breakfast, hot and tempting, awaited her as of old. Delia was
evidently upstairs, and Nan was too stubborn to call her down. She
prowled about the closets and cupboards until she discovered some cold
oatmeal, a bit of meat also cold, and a slice of bread. These, with a
cup of chilling milk, she gulped down hastily and with a thorough
disrelish.

"Ugh!" she exclaimed, "how I hate it--and her!"

It was a cheerless morning. The temperature had risen and a thick rain
was falling. There was nothing to do out-of-doors so Nan remained
within. It was Friday, and one of Delia's sweeping days. She was shut
up in the draughty parlor with a mob-cap on her head "cleaning for dear
life," as she expressed it. After a brief experience of the cold and
discomfort of open windows and clouds of dust, Nan gave up trying to
talk to Delia and wandered out of the parlor as disconsolately as she
had wandered into it. By and by she heard Miss Blake's door open and
close and saw the governess come forth, leave the house, and walk
rapidly down the street. She turned in at the Newton's gate and
disappeared behind the vestibule door. Nan had flown to the window to
gaze after her.

"Whatever can she want there," wondered the girl.

The question bothered her. She had not been able to get direct news of
Ruth's condition because she had not dared inquire again after the wa