it open on the table while she went to talk to Miss Jones.
They were fast friends from the very first, and though it
is said to be natural to take to one's own countrymen,
I am unable altogether to sympathise with such a reason
for sudden affection.

"I wonder what they talk about?" I said to Irais yesterday,
when there was no getting Minora to come to tea, so deeply was she
engaged in conversation with Miss Jones.

"Oh, my dear, how can I tell? Lovers, I suppose,
or else they think they are clever, and then they talk rubbish."

"Well, of course, Minora thinks she is clever."

"I suppose she does. What does it matter what she thinks?
Why does your governess look so gloomy? When I see her at luncheon
I always imagine she must have just heard that somebody is dead.
But she can't hear that every day. What is the matter with her? "

"I don't think she feels quite as proper as she looks,"
I said doubtfully; I was for ever trying to account for
Miss Jones's expression.

"But that must be rather nice," said Irais. "It would
be awful for her if she felt exactly the same as she looks."

At that moment the door leading into the schoolroom opened softly,
and the April baby, tired of playing, came in and sat down at my feet,
leaving the door open; and this is what we heard Miss Jones saying--