red little girl. If I go, will you promise
me to go straight to bed?"

In her astonishment Nancy submitted to the impetuous kiss he pressed
against her fingers. When but a few moments before her heart had been
torn with pity that she must hurt this man, now he was, in a masterful
way, sending her off to bed as though she was a very little girl! And
nothing in his tone or manner suggested _anything_ but utter peace of
mind and heart.

But Nancy _was_ tired--so very tired that it was pleasant to be led up
the path toward the house, to think that someone--even Peter
Hyde--cared enough about her to beg her "not to open an eye for
twenty-four hours."

And of course it was because the day had held so much for her that upon
reaching her room, she threw herself across her bed and burst into a
passion of tears.

CHAPTER XXV

NANCY'S CONFESSION

A thousand torments seemed to rack poor Nancy's tired soul and body.
For a long time she had lain, very still, across her bed. Then she
had, mechanically, made ready for the night. But sleep would not come.
Wider and wider-eyed she stared at the dim outline that was her open
window. After awhile she crossed to it and knelt down before it, her
bare arms folded on the sill.

A sense of remorse, which Nancy had been trying for some time past to
keep tucked back somewhere in a corner of her mind, now overwhelmed
her. She saw herself a cheat, an imposter. What would these good
people of Happy House say of her when they knew all of them, even Peter
Hyde--and little Nonie!

Her hands clenched tightly, Nancy faced what she called the reckoning.

Only a few days before she and Aunt Milly had had a long talk. Aunt
Milly had told her how, one afternoon, she had tried to walk--and had
failed.

"I'd been praying, my dear, that it might be possible. I thought,
perhaps, I felt so much better----. But the wonderful thing was
Nancy,--_I didn't care_! My life seems so full, now, of real things,
thanks to all you've done for me, that whether I can walk or not is
insignificant. And I shall always have you, anyway, Nancy!" Aunt
Milly had said with the yearning look in her eyes that Nancy knew so
well.

What would Aunt Milly say when she knew?

How had she, Nancy, betrayed Sabrina's trust?

Rapidly, as one can at such moments, Nancy's mind went over the weeks
of her stay at Happy House. She had let herself go so far; she had
taught these people she was deceiving to grow