But Miss Gregson knew that unless someone was with them to mount guard further mischief would be done. Jane, who was a good-natured girl, volunteered to take them down and to see after them, and Angel, quite unstrung, was only too thankful. She went to her room and lay down on the sofa, saying she would not be disturbed till Miss Dennison returned for tea. A soft knock awakened her. Sheila opened the door. She looked at the prostrate figure on the sofa with remorse, saying— "Jane tells me you are quite overcome with the naughtiness of the children. I ought never to have left you. And certainly I should not have been so long away. I am so sorry." Miss Gregson smiled. Sheila looked so truly penitent that though her chaperon agreed with her remarks she had not the heart to tell her so. "I have had a nice rest," she said, "but the children surpassed themselves. I wonder, my dear, if you could not get someone in from the village to look after them for the last week." The girl planted herself on the end of the sofa and surveyed her companion with grave eyes. "I wonder on the other hand," she said, "if it would be perfectly horrible of me to send them away at once. I don't feel as if I can endure them another day." "My dear," exclaimed Miss Gregson. "Just think what a terrible disappointment it would be to them all." "But just think on the other hand what a terrible time we shall have with them! If only they were nicer children! They are little horrors." "What can you expect from their bringing up? We should have thought of this before. How can children from homes where they probably only hear bad words and see drunken brawls, behave decently? And I must own I had quite a shock this afternoon. I have never heard such language! It was frightful." "Oh, I know. They swear like grown up people. It's horrid." "Poor little things! I feel we must do something to help them before they go away. I long to have a talk with them, but it takes all one's strength to keep them tolerably occupied. There seems no time to talk about better things. It must be done before they leave." "Then it must be done to-night," said Sheila, "for I feel to be in a regular nightmare, and really I can hardly bear the sight of them. Do you suppose there are many such wicked children in the world? I have been appalled at the things they say." "We can't let them go back without telling them of the Good Shepherd," said Miss Gregson softly. "You are an angel," said Sheila, holding out her hand affectionately to her old governess. "You are only thinking of the children, and I am only thinking of myself. But you can understand how very humiliating it is to fail in this way. I hate to think of Peter knowing about it." Miss Gregson took the proffered hand in her own. "Tell me," said Sheila, "why it is I so often fail? This is the worst failure I have had. Why don't things go right?"