Miss Blake tried to look stern.
"I'm heartily sorry you've lost your hat, Nan," she said, kindly, without a hint of reproach in her voice. "You were so fond of it. I'm really very sorry, dear!"
Nan checked her laughter. She let the hat fall to the floor. A sudden impulse seized her, and she strode up the governess and took her by the shoulders.
"You're a real dear not to say 'I told you so!'" she cried. "And you haven't jeered at me, though I know you hated the hat from the start. And now I'm going to tell you something—two things! First: I'm never going to hang up my clothes on the gas again, honestly! And second: I hated the old thing, too. The minute I bought it I hated it, and I've hated it ever since."
Miss Blake looked up, and their eyes met.
"Good for you, Nan," she said, standing on her tip-toes to pat the girl approvingly on the head. "Good for you! And now it's my turn to confess. Wait a minute!"
She flew out of the room, and before Nan fairly knew she had gone she was back again, and in her hand was a huge milliner's box.
"I couldn't help it!" she cried, half apologetically. "I got it that day, just to please myself—and now you'll wear it, won't you, dear? It's very simple, but it is of the best, and it will match your coat, you see."
She untied the string, lifted the sheets of tissue-paper, and displayed what even Nan had to admit was a beautiful hat.
The girl looked at it in silence for a moment; then she ducked down impulsively, and gave the governess a quick, shy kiss upon the cheek.