so happy, for she was continually in trouble. But she seemed to possess a
cheery knack of throwing off adversity. She was essentially gay of heart.

"Do put away those stupid old stockings and come out with us!" she
begged, still hanging over Avery. "Don't you hate darning? I do. We had
to do our own before you came. I was very naughty one day last summer. I
went out and played in the garden instead of mending my stockings, and
Father found out." Gracie cast up her eyes dramatically. "He sent me in
to do them, and went off to one of his old parish parties; and I just
sneaked out as soon as his back was turned and went on with the game. But
there was no luck that day. He came back to fetch something and caught
me. And then--just imagine!" Again Gracie was dramatic, though this time
unconsciously. "He sent me to bed and--what do you think? When he came
home to tea, he--whipped me!"

Avery threaded her needle with care. She said nothing.

"I think it was rather a shame," went on Gracie unconcernedly. "Because
he never whips Jeanie or Olive. But then, he can make them cry without,
and he can't make me. I 'spect that's what made him do it, don't you?"

"I don't know, dear," said Avery rather shortly.

Gracie peered round into her face. "Mrs. Denys, you don't like Father, do
you?" she said.

"My dear, that's not a nice question to ask," said Avery, with her eyes
on her work.

"I don't know why not," said Gracie. "I don't like him myself, and he