"And our plans is spoiled," went on Thomas. "Well, ain't that our luck!
And I suppose you couldn't manage to leave a certain party--"

Gwendolyn had been watching Thomas. Now she fell to observing the silver
buckles on her slippers. She might not know who "They" were. But "a
certain party"--

"Leave?" repeated Jane, "Who with? Not alone, surely you don't mean. For
something's gone wrong already to-day, as you'll see if you'll use your
eyes. And a fuss or a howl'd mean that somebody'd hear, and tattle to
the Madam, and--"

Thomas said something under his breath.

"So we can't go after all," resumed Jane; "--leastways not like we'd
counted on. And it's _too_ exasperatin'. Here I am, a person that likes
my freedom once in a while, and a glimpse at the shop-windows,--exactly
as much as old you-know-who does--and a bit of tea afterwards with a--a
friend."

At this point, Gwendolyn glanced up--just in time to see Thomas
regarding Jane with a broad grin. And Jane was smiling back at him, her
face so suffused with blushes that there was not a freckle to be seen.

Now Jane sighed, and stood looking down with hands folded. "What good
does it do to talk, though," she observed sadly. "Day in and day out,
day _in_ and day out, I have to dance attendance."

It was Gwendolyn's turn to color. She got down quickly and came forward.