[Gutenberg 23778] • The Governess

NAN

"Hello, Nan!"

"Heyo, Ruthie!"

"Where are you going?"

"Over to Reid's lot."

"Take me?"

"No, Ruthie, can't."

The little child's lip began to tremble. "I think you're real mean,

Nan Cutler," she complained.

Nan shook her head. "Can't help it if you do," she returned, stoutly,

and took a step on.

"Nannie," cried the child eagerly, starting after her and clutching her

by the skirt, "I didn't mean that! Truly, I didn't. I think you're

just as nice as you can be. Do please let me go with you. Won't you?"

Nan compressed her lips. "Now, Ruth, look here," she said after a

moment, in which she stood considering, "I'd take you in a minute if I

could but the truth is--oh, you're too little."

"I ain't too little!"

"Well, then, your mother doesn't like you to be with me, so there!"

cried Nan, in a burst of reckless frankness.

Ruth hung her head. She could not deny it but at sight of her

companion turning to leave her she again started forward, piping

shrilly, "Nannie! Nannie! She won't care this time. Honest, she

won't."

Nan stalked on without turning her head.

The hurrying little feet followed on close behind.

"Nannie! Nannie!"

"See here, Ruth," exclaimed the girl, veering suddenly about and

speaking with decision. "You can't come, and that's all there is about

it. Your mother doesn't like me, and you ought not to disobey her.

Now run back home like a good little girl."

The delicate, small face upturned to hers grew hardened and set, but

the child did not move.

Nan gave her a friendly shove on the shoulder and turned on her way

again. Immediately she heard the tap of hurrying little feet behind,

like the echoing sound of her own hasty footsteps. She stopped and

swung about abruptly.

"Are you going to be a good little girl and go back this minute?" she

demanded sternly, calling to her assistance all the dignity of her

fourteen years, and turning on the poor infant a severe, unrelenting

eye.

The child gazed up at her reproachfully, but did not reply.

Nan felt herself fast losing patience. "Of all the provoking little

witches!" she exclaimed, in an underbreath of irritation.

Ruth's rebuking eyes surveyed her calmly, but she made no response.

"Now be good and trot along back," cajoled Nan, changing her tactics

and stroking the child's soft hair caressingly.

There was a visible pursing of the obstinate little lips, but no

further sign of acknowledgment.

Nan dropped her voice to a tone of honey-sweetness. "See here, Ruthie,

if you'll go home this minute I'll give you five cents. You can buy

anything you like with it at Sam's, on the way back." She plunged her

hand into her pocket and drew forth a bright new nickel, and held it

alluringly aloft.

The azure eyes gazed at it appreciatively, but the hand was not

outstretched to receive it. For a second Nan reviewed the situation in

silence. Then she flung about with a movement of exasperation, and

marched on stolidly, and the smaller feet hastened after her, keeping

pace with difficulty, and often breaking into a little run that they

might not be outstripped.