audacity that probably no woman could condemn. She thought to herself as
she returned to her charges that she had never seen a face so faultlessly
patrician and yet so vividly alive. And following that thought came
another that dwelt longer in her mind. Deprived of its animation, it
would not have been a happy face.

Avery wondered why.



CHAPTER VI

THE RACE


"Hooray! No more horrid sums for a whole month!" Gracie Lorimer's
arithmetic-book soared to the ceiling and came down with a bang while
Gracie herself pivoted, not ungracefully, on her toes till sheer
giddiness and exhaustion put an end to her rhapsody. Then she staggered
to Avery who was darning the family stockings by the window and flung
ecstatic arms about her neck.

"Dear Mrs. Denys, aren't you glad it's holidays?" she gasped. "We'll give
you such a lovely time!"

"I'm sure you will, dear," said Avery. "But do mind the needle!"

She kissed the brilliant childish face that was pressed to hers. She and
Gracie were close friends. Gracie was eleven, and the prettiest madcap of
them all. It was a perpetual marvel to Avery that the child managed to be