say anything unkind. Perhaps her sister really is ill. So, then, I
brought them all by myself. Mrs. Bingle is in the city looking for a
new governess. She--"

"Would you consider--" began Miss Colgate eagerly, and then flushed to
the roots of her hair, What had come over her? Was she on the point of
applying for a position as governess in a family of--But why not? Why
not? She was tired, discouraged, and a failure at the work she had
tried so hard to perform.

"Yes?"

She laughed confusedly. "It was nothing, Mr. Bingle, nothing at all.
Good-bye. I hope you'll get them home safe, sound and--intact. They
are dears."

Mr. Bingle surveyed his brood. Every eye was riveted on the face of
the strange, lovely lady, and in each was the look of complete
subjugation.

"You've hypnotised them," said he, wonderingly.

She looked away. After a moment's hesitation, she cast the die--urged
by the queerest impulse that had ever come over her.

"Would you consider me, Mr. Bingle, for the position that has just
been given up by the--the woman whose sister is ill?"

He heard, but he could not believe his ears. "I--I beg pardon?" he
said.