"Of course not," cried Gwen. "What fun would it be to call on neighbors?
I'd rather go to houses where I _don't know_ the people, just for the
sake of seeing what they look like, and how their houses look."
The young teacher was not surprised. That very morning, soon after
breakfast, upon returning to her room, she had found Gwen on her knees
searching her trunk. Gwen had neither blushed, nor looked abashed.
"I wanted to know how many dresses you brought with you," she had said
coolly, "and I don't see but one in the closet, two in this trunk, and
one you have on. Is that all you have?"
Mrs. Harcourt passing the door, looked in to smile at Gwen.
"You mustn't mind if my little daughter examines your belongings in
your trunks or bureau drawers. She's only deeply interested in you,"
she said.
The young governess felt like saying that she did not enjoy the sort
of interest that made a child feel free to handle and examine the
property of others, but she said nothing.
She knew that Mrs. Harcourt considered Gwen faultless.
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