Gladys saw that their attention was all concentrated upon her, and that the boy, upon whom they had been venting their malice, was for the time unheeded.
She saw, too, that he was stealthily edging his way toward the carriage, and a sudden bright thought flashed into her mind.
She bent forward as if to speak again, and the interest deepened on those youthful faces beneath her.
Quick as a flash she turned the handle of the carriage door, threw it open, and with a significant gesture, she cried out, in clear, ringing tones:
“Come here, boy, quick! quick!”
The lad needed no second bidding.
With one bound he was outside the circle of his tormentors; another brought him to the side of the carriage, and the next instant he had sprung within the vehicle, where he sank panting and trembling upon a rug at the young lady’s feet.
The door was immediately shut and fastened. Gladys’ face was glowing with triumph over the success of her ruse, while, at an authoritative chirrup from the coachman, who, sooth to say, had keenly enjoyed the spirited and courageous attitude assumed by his young mistress in defense of the persecuted boy, the horses started on, leaving the group of gamins speechless and spell-bound with amazement at this unexpected master-stroke.
It was only for a minute, however; the next rage, at having been outwitted by a girl, and that one of the hated favorites of fortune, superseded their astonishment, and a succession of frantic yells burst upon their ears, while as with one mind they stooped to gather mud from the gutter, rolled it into balls, and then sent their filthy missiles flying after the receding carriage and its occupants.
Gladys did not pay the slightest heed to this attack, though one vile mass came plump against her pretty sunshade where it adhered for a moment and then rolled into the street, but leaving an unsightly stain where it had struck upon the rich, glossy silk.