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Updated: June 8, 2025
"Oh, I'm so glad we're going back to Johnnie Blake's, moth-er. 'Cause, oh, I'm tired of pretending!" "Of pretending," said her father. "Ah, yes." Her mother nodded at him. "I'm tired of pretending, too," she said in a low voice. Gwendolyn looked pleased. "I didn't know you ever pretended," she said. "Well, of course, you know that real things are so much nicer " "Ah, yes, my little girl!"
"Oh, but I didn't want to take the last one," protested Gwendolyn, hastily, " though it tasted good. She made me. She said if I didn't " "So!" exclaimed the Doctor, interrupting. "She frightened the poor little helpless thing in order to get obedience!" "Gwendolyn!" whispered her mother. "She frightened you?" The gray eyes smiled wisely.
And to Gwendolyn's father, "Why, that wretched girl didn't read the directions on the bottle!" There was another silence. The two men stared at each other. But Gwendolyn's mother, her face paler than before, bent above the yellow head on the pillow. "After I drank that teaspoonful," went on Gwendolyn, "Jane wouldn't believe me. And so she made me take the other."
And she realized that all along there was never any danger of her being kidnaped by strangers, but by the two who, their past ill-feeling evidently forgotten, were at this very moment chuckling and chattering together, ugly heads touching the eary head and the head with the double face! Seeing the Policeman and the little old gentleman in conversation with Gwendolyn, the Piper slouched over.
Gwendolyn almost knew their quarrel by heart. But now Thomas came round upon Jane with a snarl. "You're not foolin' me," he declared. "Don't you think I know that policeman's heels over head?" He shook his crumb-knife at her. "Heels over head!" Then seizing the tray and swinging it up, he stalked out. Jane fell to pacing the floor. Her reddish eyes roved angrily. Heels over head!
Thomas, too, feigned indifference to the rat! tat! tat! of heels. He bent above the table attentively. And to Gwendolyn was wafted down a sweet aroma. "Thank you," said Miss Royle. "And cake, too? Splendid! How did you manage it?" A knife-edge cut against china. She helped herself generously. Gwendolyn fell silent to listen. "Well, I haven't Mr.
"Jane," she added, "you will be free to go in half an hour." She threw Gwendolyn a loud kiss. Thomas was directing his attention to the clearing of the breakfast-table. The moment the door closed behind the governess, Jane shot up from her chair and advanced upon him. "You ain't treatin' me fair," she charged, speaking low, but breathing fast.
She gave Gwendolyn a little push toward the front window. "Now, no more of your nonsense. Go and be quiet for a few minutes. And keep a' eye out, will you, to see that there's nobody layin' in wait for us out in front?" Gwendolyn went forward to the window-seat and climbed up among its cushions.
She parted them to make sure that she was alone in the nursery. After which she raised the window just a trifle. The roofs that were white with laundry were not those directly across from the nursery, but over-looked the next street. Nevertheless, with the window up, Gwendolyn could hear the crack and snap of the whipping garments, and an indistinct chorus of cheery voices.
Now Jane had spoken the first rough word. Peace returned with Miss Royle, who came in with the morning paper, dismissed Jane, and settled down in the upholstered chair, silver-rimmed spectacles on nose. The brocade hangings of the front window were only partly drawn. Between them, Gwendolyn made out more of those fat sheep straying down the azure field of the sky.
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