"Jail," says Pyramid, shruggin' his sable collar up around his ears. "That would be rather deplorable too. Bright young man, Marston, in many ways, and peculiarly adapted for----" "Yes, I know the part," says I. "They gen'rally spells it g-o-a-t." CHAPTER XII MRS. TRUCKLES' BROAD JUMP And do you imagine Kitty Marston settles down to a life job after that? Not her. At the very next pay day she hands in her two weeks' notice, and when they pin her right down to facts she admits weepy that she means to start out lookin' for Egbert. Now wouldn't that crust you? Course, the sequel to that is another governess hunt which winds up with Madame Roulaire. And say, talk about your queer cases----But you might as well have the details. You see, until Aunt Martha arrived on the scene this Madame Roulaire business was only a fam'ly joke over to Pinckney's, with all of us in on it more or less. But Aunt Martha ain't been there more'n three or four days before she's dug up mystery and scandal and tragedy enough for another one of them French dope dramas. "In my opinion," says she, "that woman is hiding some dreadful secret!" But Mrs. Pinckney only smiles in that calm, placid way of hers. You know how easy she took things when she was Miss Geraldine and Pinckney found her on the steamer in charge of the twins that had been willed to him? Well, she ain't changed a bit; and, with Pinckney such a brilliant member of the Don't Worry Fraternity, whatever frettin' goes on in that house has to be done by volunteers. Aunt Martha acts like she was wise to this; for she starts right in to make up for lost opportunities, and when she spots this freaky lookin' governess she immediately begins scoutin' for trouble. Suspicions? She delivers a fresh lot after every meal! "Humph!" says she. "Madame Roulaire, indeed! Well, I must say, she looks as little like a Frenchwoman as any person I ever saw! How long have you had her, Geraldine? What, only two months? Did she bring written references, and did you investigate them carefully?" She wouldn't let up, either, until she'd been assured that Madame Roulaire had come from service in an English fam'ly, and that they'd written on crested notepaper indorsin' her in every point, giving her whole hist'ry from childhood up. "But she hasn't the slightest French accent," insists Aunt Martha. "I know," says Mrs. Pinckney. "She lived in England from the time she was sixteen, and of course twenty years away from one's----" "Does she claim to be only thirty-six?" exclaims Aunt Martha. "Why, she's fifty if she's a day! Besides, I don't like that snaky way she has of watching everyone."