nteresting," cried
Jenny. "Who is Scorch O'Brien? What a perfectly ridiculous name! Why
'Scorch?'"

"He's red-headed," explained Nancy, doubtful now. She saw that she had
got herself to a point where she must tell it all--every bit of her
story--if she wished to keep Jennie's friendship.

"Bully! Scorch O'Brien is fine," laughed Jennie. "Let's hear all about
you, Nancy Nelson. I bet you've got lots of the queerest friends, only
you don't know it. I--I've got nothing but brothers, and sisters, and
cousins, and all that sort of trash. The Bruces hold most all the
political offices in the town where I come from. You couldn't throw a
stone anywhere in Hollyburg without hitting one of the family.

"But just think! You've got no folks to bother you. There are no teasing
cousins. You haven't got to 'be nice' to relatives that you fairly can't
help hating!

"Oh, I believe you've got it _good_, Nancy Nelson; only you don't know
it!"

So, thus encouraged, and lying in Jennie's warm embrace, Nancy whispered
the full and particular account of the little, unknown girl who had been
brought to Higbee School, far away in Malden, nearly ten years before.

She told Jennie about Miss Prentice and about the long, tedious
vacations with Miss Trigg, even down to the last one when she had helped
save Bob Endress--then a perfect stranger to her--from the millpond.

"And he knew you right away on the ice to-day? I saw him! Good for you!
He's the most popular boy in Clinton Academy," declared Jennie with
conviction.

"But I don't care anything about _that_," said Nancy, honestly. "I want
the girls to like me. And I know if they learn that I am just a
nobody----"

"What nonsense! You may be a great heiress. Why! maybe you belong to
royalty----"

"In America!" ejaculated Nancy, the practical.

"Well! they could have brought you over the ocean."

"I haven't heard of any of the royal families of Europe advertising for
a lost princess," Nancy said, in better humor now. "And I know I don't
look like the Turks, or the Chinese, or Hindoos, or anything like that.
I guess I'm an American, all right."

"But you must have somebody very rich belonging to you," cried Jennie.

"I don't know."

"Then that Mr. Gordon must know more about you than he will tell."

"I--I am almost tempted to believe so," admitted Nancy.

"I believe it!"

"Scorch says so."

"That boy is all right," declared Jennie. "I'd like to know him."

"But I don't see