ancy stood before her, she looked up at the girl keenly, her little
blue eyes diminished in size by the thick lenses of her pince-nez.
Then she handed her ice to Mr. Arnold without even glancing at him, and
held out both her plump white hands to Nancy. Her whole face softened,
with the dimpling, comfortable smile of a motherly old nurse.

"Oh, my dear child--if you were only a boy I could believe you were
George again--my George, your father--not this young rascal. Come, sit
down beside me. I shan't keep you long. Have you been having a good
time, my dear?"

She was not a terrible old lady at all. On the contrary, with
wonderful skill, with cosy, affectionate little ways, with her jolly
laugh, and her droll stories, she had succeeded in less time than it
takes to tell in completely winning Nancy to her. And somehow,
although she appeared to be doing all the talking herself, although she
touched so lightly and so adroitly that she hardly seemed to touch at
all on any topic that was delicately personal to the girl, she had
managed within a brief five minutes to glean a hundred little facts,
which, by piecing together in her keen old mind, gave her more
knowledge concerning the Prescotts than another person could have come
by in a week's diligent pumping.

"George, my dear----"

"Yes, Aunt Eliza."

"Oh, nothing. I wish to goodness you were a woman. It just occurred
to me that you can't possibly understand what I was going to say to
you, so never mind about listening to me. Smoke, if you want to, and
let me think in peace."

"Very well." From Mr. Arnold's docile submissiveness it might be
surmised that he, too, wanted to think in peace. Miss Bancroft's
lumbering, impressive coupe rumbled along over the wet roads toward
Lowry House; its two occupants buried in that mood of silence which
only two very sympathetic beings know how to respect. Presently Miss
Bancroft burst out:

"The child is quite charming. I shall give Tom a good sound piece of
my mind. To-morrow."

George Arnold grunted.

"It's only fair sportsmanship to give him twelve hours' warning."

"Poor Lallie Prescott. Like most silly women, she's going to try to
beat Providence by pushing them forward into premature rivalry with
girls who have every financial advantage over them, ruin their
contentment, so that they will be ready to fling away their happiness
on the first little whippersnapper who looks as if he could give them a
trip t