"Yes; I s'pose so," conceded Nan. "Well then, obviously, we must secure the aid of another pair--perhaps even two." "Uh-huh!" assented the girl cheerfully enough. "Not only that, we must secure the aid of another pair, if not two, at no additional expense to your father." Here Nan's head began to drop. "That's what floors me," she responded perplexedly. "The rest is easy enough to settle; but how in the world we are going to get people to work for us for nothing--" "What are those things in your lap, Nan?" asked the governess suddenly with a quick smile and an extra tap of the finger on the girl's palm. "My hands, of course." "Why shouldn't they be the pair we need? I cordially offer the use of mine." "Oh!" Nan's face was rather blank. "I hate housework," she added, and her mouth drew down at the corners in a pout of petulance. "I doubt if any one really cares for it. But it must be done, and in this case you and I must consent to do it, at least in part. Now that you have looked the facts in the face, let us say no more about it, after we have settled just what we prefer to do. I have always taken care of my own room. Will you see to yours after this?" "I s'pose so. "Then there is the dusting and the plants." "I'll take the plants," Nan hastened to declare. "And the dishes on Mondays and Tuesdays?" continued Miss Blake. There was a pause. "If there's one thing I despise it's washing dishes," cried the girl, her voice trembling with irritation. The governess looked down at her own two delicate little hands and seemed to be considering. Then she raised her head quickly, and said, without a shade of resentment in her voice: "Very well then, dear, I'll take the dishes. So here is the way it stands: You care for the plants and your own room and I'll look after my room and do the dusting and the dishes." "You'll have more to do than I," hesitated Nan. "No matter; if you do your share well, and don't neglect it, I am willing to stand by my part. Is it a bargain?" Nan nodded grimly, and they shook hands upon it. CHAPTER XV A TUG OF WAR "Is Nan in?" asked Ruth, coming to the house one day in the very teeth of a blinding snowstorm, and putting the question to Delia with a very decided note of excitement in her voice. "Yes, she's in; but she's pretty busy," replied Delia, showing the guest into the dining-room, where the bright logs were blazing cheerfully in the fireplace, and where Miss Blake, enveloped in a huge apron, was kneeling before the hearth and polishing its tiles till they shone like gems. She stopped to welcome the guest in her own hearty, informal fashion. "O Ruth! come in and sit down. I wondered who could be brave enough to face a storm like this. Why, it is almost a blizzard. Take off your things, dear, and get warmed. You won't mind my going on with my work?"