Gwendolyn reflected. Thomas was freely given to exaggeration. Jane, at times, resorted to bald falsehood. But Gwendolyn had never found reason to doubt Miss Royle.
She moved aside.
The governess turned to the school-room mirror to take a peep at her poke, and slung the chain of her hand-bag across her arm. Then, "I'll be home early," she said pleasantly. And went out by the door leading into the nursery.
Bears!
Gwendolyn stood bewildered. Oh, why were the Zoo bears in her father's street? Did it mean that he was in danger?
The thought sent her toward the nursery door. As she went she glanced back over a shoulder uneasily.
Close to the door she paused. Miss Royle was not yet gone, for there was a faint rustling in the next room. And Gwendolyn could hear the quick shoo-ish, shoo-ish, shoo-ish of her whispering, like the low purl of Johnnie Blake's trout-stream.
Presently, silence.
Gwendolyn went in.
She found Jane standing in the center of the room, mouth puckered soberly, reddish eyes winking with disquiet, apprehension in the very set of her heavy shoulders.