Hazel brightened visibly so soon as this very real obstacle—means—was put before her: she was willing to give up any attempt at scaling an obstruction that would obviously harm her in the ascent. It was not that she was cowardly, or easily discouraged—far from it: never was girl pluckier or keener spirited; but she was wise in her generation, and saw that the loss entailed in the attempt to gain was greater than the gain itself; that the other side of the block, in short, was not worth the reaching. "That is true," she admitted, relieved. "There is the tailor-made dress, too! Let us talk of other ways." She hesitated. "Now, don’t laugh, Teddie," she went on, "just think seriously over what I am going to propose, and then say yes or no, after due consideration, you know. Teddie—could I be a governess?" And the girl unconsciously straightened her back, while an expression of mild severity overspread her countenance. Teddie’s surprise at this, to him astounding, idea silenced his tongue. After a few moments the slender figure drooped—Hazel never stooped, she drooped: as different a state, mental and physical, as ugliness from beauty—the pretty features relaxed. "Of course I know," she resumed modestly, "that they would have to be very, very young children—or very backward older ones. I should prefer the backward ones: the very young are so fascinating. I don’t know whether I should have the strength of mind, if they were hot and tired, and wanting to play, to insist on their finishing the spelling-lesson or sum; and I know that, while you cannot be too kind and too patient, you also cannot be too firm in having the little task completed. But," she added reflectively, chin in hand, "I should be wise and see to it that the task was a very short and easy one, especially if the child was particularly longing to go out, or was not quite well."