"Yes, ma'am."
"And, Jane, you may go out for the morning. I shall stay here."
"Thanks," acknowledged Jane, in a tone quite unusual for her. She did not rise, however, but waited, striving to catch Thomas's eye.
"And, Thomas," went on the governess, "when would you like an hour?"
Thomas advanced with a bow of appreciation. "If it's all the same to you, Miss Royle," said he, "I'll have a bit of an airin' directly after supper this evenin'."
Jane glared.
"Very well." Miss Royle rustled toward the school-room, taking a survey of herself in the pier-glass as she went. "Jane," she added, "you will be free to go in half an hour." She threw Gwendolyn a loud kiss.
Thomas was directing his attention to the clearing of the breakfast-table. The moment the door closed behind the governess, Jane shot up from her chair and advanced upon him.
"You ain't treatin' me fair," she charged, speaking low, but breathing fast. "You ain't takin' your hours off duty along with me no more. You're givin' me the cold shoulder."
At that, Gwendolyn turned her head to look. Of late, she had heard not a few times of Thomas's cold shoulder—this in heated encounters between him and Jane. She wondered which of his shoulders was the cold one.