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Updated: June 8, 2025
Gwendolyn wondered just who the young nurse was. She opened her lips to ask; then saw how painfully her mother had colored at the mere mention of the person in question, and so kept silence. The Doctor gone, her father came to her mother's side and patted a shoulder. "Well, we shan't ever say anything more about that bee," he declared, laughing, yet serious enough. "Shall we, Gwendolyn!" "No."
Under the arrow, plainly lettered, were the words: To the Bear's Den. Gwendolyn looked her concern. "Do we have to go that road?" she asked him. He nodded. The next moment, with a loud rumbling of the eyes, Jane came alongside. "Oh, dearie," she cried, "you couldn't hire me to go. And I wouldn't like to see you go. I think too much of you, I do indeed."
And no sooner had she given it one quick glance than she uttered a little shout of pleased surprise. The brick-house people were back! All the shades were up. There was smoke rising from one of the four tall chimneys. And even as Gwendolyn gazed, all absorbed interest, the net curtains at an upper window were suddenly drawn aside and a face looked out.
For with each chuckle, from the top of her red head to her very feet, she grew a trifle more plump! The little old gentleman warned her with one long finger. "You look out, young lady!" said he. "One of these days you'll laugh on the other side of your face." Jane put out a tongue-tip at him insolently. Then dancing near, "Come!" she bade Gwendolyn. "Come away with Nurse."
"The Doctor is right here," said her mother, soothingly. Gwendolyn smiled. And put one hand in the clasp of her mother's, the other in a bigger grasp. "Tired out all tired out," murmured her father. She was sleepy, too almost past the keeping open of her gray eyes. "Long as you both are with me," she whispered, "I wouldn't mind if I was back in the nursery."
The Piper, in his excitement, jounced the pig so hard that it squealed. "We ought to be able," he panted, "to manage a top." "Jane!" bellowed the Policeman, galloping hard. "You must not injure that shaft!" Then Gwendolyn realized that the square tower toward which the nurse was spinning was the Big Rock.
"She doesn't need you," he declared "She's seven, and she's grown-up." And to Gwendolyn, "Tell her so! Don't be afraid! Tell her!" Gwendolyn promptly opened her mouth. But try as she would, she could not speak. Her lips seemed dry. Her tongue refused to move. She could only swallow! "There!" he cried triumphantly. "There's that stiff upper lip! Now you can answer." It was true!
It was a small bird, richly browned. A tiny sprig of parsley garnished it on either side. A ribbon of bacon lay in crisp flutings across it. Its short round legs were up-thrust. On the end of each was a paper frill. "Don't it look delicious!" said Thomas warmly. "Don't it tempt!" But Gwendolyn regarded it without enthusiasm. "What kind of a bird is it?" she asked.
She led Gwendolyn to the school-room. There she settled down in a low chair, opened a black reticule, took out a thick, closely written letter, and fell to reading. Gwendolyn amused herself by experimenting with the boa, which she festooned, now over one shoulder, now over the other. "Mademoiselle," she began, "what kind of a bird owned these feathers?" Talk the word was a cue!
Next, Gwendolyn lifted her eyes to the Doctor, and felt suddenly conscience-stricken, remembering how she had always dreaded him, had taken the mere thought of his coming as punishment; remembering, too, how helpful and kind he had been to her through the night.
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