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But Ann carried in her heart a glowing secret which no worries of this ephemeral nature could quench or dim.

“Cook-general now, are you, Miss Merrill?” remarked Waring.

“I suppose some one will have to do the work,” said Vera sharply.

“It’s hardly Miss Merrill’s job, is it?” asked Holmes. Vera turned on her husband angrily.

“Surely as long as I’m mistress here it’s for me to say what Miss Merrill is to do, or not to do?”

“Cooking the dinner...”

“Who asked her to cook the dinner?”

“Oh, do let me finish it,” said Ann. “I love trying my hand at the cooking. It may not be very grand, but it’ll be eatable.”

“You’re looking very well on it at any rate,” observed Waring. “It’s always a treat to see a cheerful smile.”

“Meaning...?” asked Vera icily.

“That Miss Merrill looks, if possible, more charming than usual.”

This was the first time Waring had ever paid her compliments openly. Ann felt the atmosphere grow still more electric, for she knew that it was done intentionally. Certainly Mrs. Holmes’s stormy face was anything but attractive this afternoon; but why emphasize the fact? It seemed to Ann that Waring had suddenly grown tired of Vera’s tantrums and intended to make that plain to her. The little governess hastened back to the kitchen, and busied herself with the pots and pans. She was on her knees before the oven when Waring entered. He had strolled down from his own room in the school-house, to the back