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Before Jane could put out a restraining hand, Gwendolyn bounced to her knees. “Oh, it’s the old hand-organ man!” she cried. “It’s the old hand-organ man! Oh, where’s some money? I want to give him some money!”

Jane threw up both hands wildly. “Oh, did I ever have such luck!” she exclaimed. Then, between her teeth, and pressing Gwendolyn back upon the pillows, “You lay down or I’ll shake you!”

“Oh, please let him stay just this time!” begged Gwendolyn; “I like him, Jane!”

“I’ll stay him!” promised Jane, grimly. She marched to the side window, threw up the sash and leaned out. “Here, you!” she called down roughly. “You git!”

“Oh, Jane!” plead Gwendolyn.

The thin, cracked voice fell silent. The waltz slowed its tempo, then came to a gasping stop.

“How’s a body to git a child asleep with that old wheeze of yours goin’?” demanded Jane. “We don’t want you here. Move along!”

“He could play me to sleep,” protested Gwendolyn.

A reply to Jane’s order was shrilled up—something defiant.

“He’d only excite you, darlin’,” declared Jane. She was on her knees at the window, and turned her head to speak. “I can’t have that rumpus in the street with you so nervous.”

Gwendolyn sighed.

“Take your medicine, dearie,” went on Jane. She stayed where she was.

Promptly, Gwendolyn sat up and reached for the glass. To hold it, to shake it about and potter in the strange liquid with a spoon, would be some compensation for having to drink it.

“If that mean old creature didn’t make faces!” grumbled Jane. She was leaning forward to look out.

“How did he make faces, Jane?” asked Gwendolyn. “Were they nice ones?” She lifted the glass to take a whiff of its contents. “I’d like to see him make faces.”

She put the spoon into Jane’s half-empty coffee-cup; then let the medicine run up the side of the glass until it was almost to her lips. She tasted it. It tasted good! She hesitated a second; then drained the glass.

The street was quiet. Jane rose to her feet and came over. “Did you do as I said?” she asked.

“Yes, Jane.”

“Now, did you?” Jane picked up the glass, looked into it, then at Gwendolyn. “Honest?”

“Yes,—every sip.”

“Gwendolyn?” Jane held her with doubting eyes. “I don’t believe it!”

“But I did!“

Jane bent down to the cup, sniffed it, then smelled of the glass.

“Gwendolyn,” she said solemnly, “I know you did not take your medicine. You poured it into this cup.”

“But I didn’t!“

“I seen.” Jane pointed an accusing finger.

“How could you?” demanded Gwendolyn. “You were looking at the brick house.”

“I’ve got eyes in the back of my head. And I seen you plain when I was lookin’ straight the other way.”

“A-a-aw!” laughed Gwendolyn, skeptically.

“They’re hid by my braids,” went on Jane, “but they’re there. And I seen you throw away that medicine, you bad girl!” Again she leaned to examine the coffee-cup.

“Miss Royle said you had two faces,” admitted Gwendolyn. She stared hard at the coiled braids on the back of Jane’s head. The braids were pinned close together. No pair of eyes was visible.

Jane straightened resolutely, seized the medicine-bottle and the spoon, poured out a second dose, and proffered it. “Come, now!” she said firmly. “You ain’t a-goin’ to git ahead of me with your cuteness. Take this, and go to sleep.”

“Bu-but—”

That moment a shrill whistle sounded from the street.

“There now!” cried Jane, triumphantly. “The policeman’s right here. I can call him up whenever I like.”

Gwendolyn drank.

Jane tossed the spoon aside, corked the bottle and went back to the open window. “You go to sleep,” she commanded.

Gwendolyn, lying flat, was murmuring to herself. “Oo-oo! How funny!” she said, “Oo-oo!”

“Now, don’t let me hear another word out of you!” warned Jane.

Gwendolyn turned her head slowly from side to side. A great light of some kind was flaming against her eyes—a light shot through and through with black, whirling balls. Where did it come from?

It stayed. And grew. Her eyes widened with wonderment. A smile curved her lips.

Then suddenly she rose to a sitting posture, threw out both arms, and gave a little choking cry.