The little girl giggled. "She's church"--by which she meant episcopalian. "Yes, but I don't care a bit which I go to," Laura hastened to explain, fearful lest she should be accounted a snob by this dissenter. The boy, however, was so faintly interested in her theological wobblings that, even as she spoke, he had risen from his seat; and the next moment without another word he went away.--This time Miss Snodgrass laughed outright. Laura stared, with blurred eyes, at the white-clad forms that began to dot the green again. Her lids smarted. She did not dare to put up her fingers to squeeze the gathering tears away, and just as she was wondering what she should do if one was inconsiderate enough to roll down her cheek, she heard a voice behind her. "I say, Laura ... Laura!"--and there was Chinky, in her best white hat. "I'm sitting with my aunt just a few rows down; but I couldn't make you look. Can I come in next to you for a minute?" "If you like," said Laura and, because she had to sniff a little, very coldly: Chinky had no doubt also been a witness of her failure. The girl squeezed past and shared her seat. "I don't take up much room." Laura feigned to be engrossed in the game. But presently she felt her bare wrist touched, and Chinky said in her ear: "What pretty hands you've got, Laura!" She buried them in her dress, at this. She found it in the worst possible taste of Chinky to try to console her. "Wouldn't you like to wear a ring on one of them?" "No, thanks," said Laura, in the same repellent way. "Truly? I'd love to give you one." "You? Where would YOU get it?" "Would you wear it, if I did?" "Let me see it first," was Laura's graceless reply, as she returned to her stony contemplation of the great sunlit expanse. She was sure Miss Snodgrass, on getting home, would laugh with the other governesses over what had occurred--if not with some of the girls. The story would leak out and come to Tilly's ears; and Tilly would despise her more than she did already. So would all the rest. She was branded, as it was, for not having a single string to her bow. Now, it had become plain to her that she could never hope for one; for, when it came to holding a boy's attention for five brief minutes, she could be put in the shade by a child of eight years old. XVI.