n
mother once, but I never thought of it."

"She was a beauty, an' ye'll look like her when ye're a young lady. Her
hair was dark an' curly, an' her figger was graceful. Her big dark eyes
was melting, an' she could dance, oh, how she could dance!"

"My mamma danced?" questioned Nancy.

"She danced like a fairy. She was a stage dancer; there's where ye got
yer nimble toes, but she died when ye wasn't a year old, an' yer father
married that other woman who wa'n't nobody at all. Yer own ma was called
'Ma'm'selle Nannette' on the play-bills, an' she was a good woman, a
sweet woman as ever lived."

"I wish I'd known her," Nancy said, her eyes filled with tears at the
thought of the beautiful young mother whom she had never known.

"An' one thing I sent fer yer fer was this," and Mrs. Ferris took a
small box from beneath her shawl. "What's in this box belonged ter yer
own ma, an' how Steve got hold of it I don't know. I found it 'mong his
things, an' when I see yer ma's name on to it, I knew he'd no right ter
hev it. I took an' hid it, an' Steve tore 'round like mad a-tellin' that
he'd been robbed, but he didn't say anything ter the perlice, 'cause he
knew it didn't b'long ter him in the first place."

She opened the box and held up a slender gold necklace set with tiny
brilliants.

[Illustration: Nancy clasped her hands together, and gasped,
"Oh!--O--O!"]

Nancy clasped her hands together, and gasped, "Oh-o-o," in admiration.

"There's the name on the clasp," said Mrs. Ferris.

"When I found it I wondered why he hadn't sold it when he was hard up,
which was often 'nough, goodness knows, but after I hid it, he said he'd
kept holdin' on to it fer the time when he'd need the money more, but I
think he was _'fraid_ ter sell it. Knowin' 'twa'n't his'n, he thought he
_might_ git 'cused er hevin' stolen it."

Nancy took the pretty necklace, and held it so that it sparkled like
dewdrops.

It was truly a charming bit of jewelry, not costly, but tasteful, and
just what one might think would have shone resplendent upon the white
throat of the beautiful Nannette.

"It's yours by good rights," Mrs. Ferris said, "an' I ain't like Steve
was; I don't want nothin' that don't b'long ter me.

"Now I've given that ter ye, I feel some better. I've felt like a thief
ever since I found it, an' knew who it b'longed ter. They's a note in
the little box, an' when ye've puzzled over the flourishes done in fancy
ink, ye kin read that