As I have always said: 'Gwen is a most _unusual_ child. She shows great
force of character, and I can overlook the _mistake_ she made in cutting
the canvas, because the act showed me another fine trait,--the love
of Art. I _do_ wonder if she will be an artist?"

The guests were disgusted. They wondered how any mother could be so
foolish as to think a piece of costly mischief showed either love of
art or talent, instead of wilful wrong-doing.

"Gwen is a pretty child," said one woman, "and some one who had sense
enough to correct her and make her behave, could train her to be a
pleasing young girl, when she is a few years older, but her mother
could never do that!"

"No, indeed," the other replied. "Mrs. Harcourt is spoiling her little
daughter as fast as she can. I had promised to stay a week," she
continued, "but I think I will make some excuse and leave here day
after to-morrow. I am very fond of Mrs. Harcourt, but the child is so
unpleasant that I can not remain."

The two friends were in the room that they had shared during their
visit. In another room Mrs. Harcourt was changing Gwen's frock, and
ribbons, to make her yet more attractive when she should appear at
lunch. A less beautiful costume, and a bit of training in ordinary
rules of courtesy, would have been far more beneficial. Mrs. Harcourt
felt that Gwen must, at all times, be daintily dressed, but she
permitted her to do or say whatever she chose, and at times when she
was hopelessly rude, the silly mother thought her charming.

In the big hammock the three playmates still were swinging.