Here she was interrupted. The door from the school-room swung wide with a bang. Gwendolyn, looking up, saw her nurse.
Jane was in sharp contrast to Miss Royle—taller and stocky, with broad shoulders and big arms. As she halted against the open school-room door, her hair was as ruddy as the panel that made a background for it. And she had reddish eyes, and a full round face. In the midst of her face, and all out of proportion to it, was her short turned-up nose, which was plentifully sprinkled with freckles.
"So you're goin' out?" she began angrily, addressing the governess.
Miss Royle retreated a step. "Just for a—a couple of hours," she explained.
Jane's face grew almost as red as her hair. Slamming the school-room door behind her, she advanced. "I suppose it's the neuralgia again," she suggested with quiet heat.
The color stole into Miss Royle's pale cheeks. She coughed. "It is a little worse than usual this afternoon," she admitted.
"I thought so," said Jane. "It's always worse—on bargain-days."
"How dare you!"
"You ask me that, do you?—you old snake-in-the-grass!" Now Jane grew pallid with anger.
Gwendolyn, listening, contemplated her governess thoughtfully. She had often heard her pronounced a snake-in-the-grass.