',
either, but I can always think what it ought to be. There's nothing so
beautiful to me as manners," she added softly, as if she whispered at
the shrine of confidence.

"My aunt thinks there are going to be some pretty figure dances
to-day," announced Tom in a matter-of-fact way. There was something
else than the dancing upon his mind. He thought that he ought to tell
Nancy of his engagement,--not that it was quite an engagement
yet,--but he could not do it just now. "What was it you were going to
tell me this morning? About Addie Porter, wasn't it?" He laughed a
little, and then colored deeply. He had been somewhat foolish in his
attentions to this young person, the beguiling village belle of East
Rodney and the adjacent coasts. She was a pretty creature and a sad
flirt, with none of the real beauty and quaint sisterly ways of Nancy.
"What was it all about?" he asked again.

Nancy turned away quickly. "That's one thing I wanted to come to
Boston for; that's what I want to tell you. She don't really care
anything about you. She only wanted to get you away from the other
girls. I know for certain that she likes Joe Brown better than
anybody, and now she's been going with him almost all winter long. He
keeps telling round that they're going to be married in the spring;
but I thought if they were, she'd ask me to get some of her best
things while I was in Boston. I suppose she's intendin' to play with
him a while longer," said Nancy with honest scorn, "just because he
loves her well enough to wait. But don't you worry about her,
Mr. Aldis!"

"I won't indeed," answered Tom meekly, but with an unexpected feeling
of relief as if the unconscious danger had been a real one. Nancy was
very serious.

"I'm going home the first of the week," she said as they parted; but
the small hand felt colder than usual, and did not return his warm
grasp. The light in her eyes had all gone, but Tom's beamed
affectionately.

"I never thought of Addie Porter afterward, I'm afraid," he confessed.
"What awfully good fun we all had! I should like to go down to East
Rodney again some time."

"Oh, shan't you ever come?" cried Nancy, with a thrill in her voice
which Tom did not soon forget. He did not know that the young girl's
heart was waked, he was so busy with the affairs of his own
affections; but true friendship does not grow on every bush, in Boston
or East Rodney, and Nancy's voice and farewell look touched something
that lay very d