parents make complaints. We don't want
to change our singing mistress, Fraeulein's system of voice production is
so very good. She was a pupil of Randegger, I believe. There's no other
first-class teacher in Greyfield either except Mr. Johnson, and he
doesn't take half the trouble with his pupils that Fraeulein does. I wish
you girls would try to appreciate her more."

Gipsy screwed up her mouth and looked humorous in reply.

"But she's a beautiful character, if you only knew!" urged Miss Edith.
"She's so simple and kind-hearted; and she works so hard! She has an
invalid father to keep. He's quite dependent on her, I believe. They
live in lodgings in Greyfield. I'm sure I'm often sorry for her, going
about to her pupils in all weathers. It's too bad of you girls to make
such fun of her! She's a stranger in a strange land, poor thing, with no
friends here, and her living to make. Girls are a thoughtless set, as
I've found out long ago. You might try to have a little more
consideration for her, Gipsy. Just imagine yourself in her place, and
fancy you were teaching a class of German girls! Yes, as I said before,
I'm sorry for Fraeulein Hochmeyer. She has a hard time of it."

Gipsy said nothing, but she retired with ample food for thought. It had
never struck her before to take the view of Fraeulein that Miss Edith had
just presented. The little foreign peculiarities and eccentricities had
excited her mirth, but she had quite missed the sterling good qualities
that lay underneath them. "'A stranger in a strange land, with no
friends here'--I know what that means!" muttered Gipsy to herself. "It's
brave of her to work to keep her father! Don't I just wish I--" but here
she sighed, for the unuttered wish seemed so entirely hopeless and
futile.

After revolving the matter carefully, Gipsy made up her mind that
Fraeulein Hochmeyer deserved to be helped instead of hindered.

"Though how I'm to do it when she insists on forcing those absurd baby
songs upon us, I can't tell. Stop! I've an idea. Oh, I don't know
whether I can, but I mean to have a jolly good try! No time like the
present. I've half an hour before tea." And furnishing herself with
pencil and paper, she ran up to her attic, and was soon puckering her
brows in the agonies of composition. As the result of that and several
other half-hours of work, she covered two pages of foolscap; then,
seeking out Miss Edith, she unfolded her scheme and begged for help.

"I'm a