“Oh, all right,” faltered Nancy, in despair now of ever catching up on the delayed work.

“You see, it’s this way,” began the woman, making room for herself in the big chair that was serving as storage quarters for Teddy’s miscellany. “Some people are very proud—”

Nancy was simply choking with impatience.

“I mean to say, they are so proud they won’t or can’t ever give in to each other.”

“Stubborn,” suggested Nancy. “I’m that way sometimes.”

“And brother and sister,” sighed Miss Townsend. “I never could believe that Elmer, my own brother, could, be so—unreasonable.”

“Why, what’s the matter?” Nancy spoke up. “You seem so unhappy.”

“Unhappy is no name for it, I’m wretched.” The distress shown on Miss Townsend’s face was now unmistakable. Nancy forgot even the unwashed breakfast dishes.

“Can I help you?” she asked kindly.

“Yes, you can. What I want is to come in here sometimes—”

“Why, if you’re lonely for your old place,” interrupted Nancy.

“It isn’t that. In fact I just can’t explain,” said Miss Townsend, picking up her hand bag, nervously. “But I’m no silly woman. We’ve agreed to sell this place to your mother and I’m the last person in the world to make a nuisance of myself.”

“You needn’t worry about that,” again Nancy intervened, sympathetically.

“You are a kind girl, Nancy Brandon, and I guess your mother has made no mistake in buying the Whatnot Shop for you. You’ll be sure to make friends, and that’s what counts next to bargains, in business,” declared the woman, who had risen from the big chair and was staring at Nancy in the oddest way.

“If I had a chance—” again the woman paused and bit her thin lip. She seemed to dread what she evidently must say.

“I’ll be busy here tomorrow,” suggested Nancy briskly, “and then perhaps you would like to help me. But I really would like to get the rough dirt out first. Then we can put things to rights.”

“The fact is,” continued Miss Townsend, without appearing to hear Nancy’s suggestion, “I have a suspicion.”

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