"Well, upon my word!" cried Ethel, much impressed by such a decided speech from gentle Jane, and dismayed at the idea of being taken home in disgrace.
"We won't talk any more now, because we may get angry and say what we should be sorry for. I am sure you will see that I am right when you think it over quietly. So good-night, dear."
"Good-night," was all the reply Ethel gave, and a long silence followed.
Mrs. Homer could not help hearing as the staterooms were close together, and the well-ventilated doors made all conversation beyond a whisper audible.
"I did n't think Jane had the spirit to talk like that. She has taken my hint and asserted herself, and I'm very glad, for Ethel must be set right at once or we shall have no peace. She will respect and obey Jane after this, or I shall be obliged to say my word."
Mrs. Homer was right, and before her first nap set in she heard a meek voice say,—
"Are you asleep, Miss Bassett?"
"No, dear."
"Then I want to say, I've thought it over. Please don't write to mamma. I'll be good. I'm sorry I was rude to you; do forgive—"
The sentence was not ended, for a sudden rustle, a little sob, and several hearty kisses plainly told that Jenny had flown to pardon, comfort, and caress her naughty child, and that all was well.
After that Ethel's behavior was painfully decorous
