For the first time in her young life, Nancy Nelson looked forward, too, to the summer with delight. She was going home with Jennie just as soon as school closed--that is, unless Mr. Gordon should object. And it was not believed that he would.

Jennie's parents and brothers and sisters were just as well pleased with the quiet little orphan as Jennie herself had been. They were glad to have her in their big house between terms.

So June approached, and the yearly exams, and other finishing work, loomed ahead.

Pinewood Hall was a beautiful place now. The park was in its very best condition. Mr. Pease and Samuel, and their helpers, made every path straight and clean, raked the groves of all rubbish, and the two horse mowers and the roller were at work on the lawns, making them like velvet carpets.

Nancy came out of Jessie Pease's cottage one day to see a handsome man in a gray suit, with gray spats, and gray hair, and even a gray silk shirt, walking slowly up the drive toward the Hall. In the shade of the trees (it was a hot day) he removed his gray, broad-brimmed hat. And out of that hat fell his handkerchief.

When Nancy, hastening, picked up this article, she found that it was silk, with a gray border, too, and an initial in one corner. The initial was "M."

"You dropped this, sir, I think," she said, timidly, coming abreast of the stranger.

He turned to look at her. He had heavy, smoothly-shaven jowls and not a very healthy complexion. His eyes were little, and green. Nancy had expected to see a very handsome, n.o.ble-looking old gentleman. Instead, she saw a very sly-looking man, with something mean and furtive in his manner, despite his fine build and immaculate dress.

"Ah! thank you, thank you, my pretty miss," he said, accepting the handkerchief. "It is a very warm day."

"Yes, sir," responded Nancy, politely.

"And you, I suppose, go to school here at Pinewood?"

"Oh, yes."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "YOU MAY BE ACQUAINTED WITH A GIRL NAMED MONTGOMERY?"]

"A beautiful place! A very beautiful place," said the stranger. "You may be acquainted with a girl named Montgomery, now?"

"Yes, sir," said Nancy, with gravity.

"Now, where might she be found at this hour?"

Nancy chanced to have seen Grace and some of her satellites sitting in a pergola on a mound not far away. She pointed out the path to the stranger.

"Thank you--thank you, my dear," said the gray man, and insisted upon shaking hands with her.

Indeed, he looked curiously after her as she pa.s.sed on. Then, as he turned to follow the path pointed out to him, he shook his head, saying, under his breath:

"Strange! Familiar, somehow. Looks familiar----"

A cry warned him that he was seen. Flying down from the pergola came Grace, with Cora close behind her.

"Oh, Father! you dear! I'm so glad to see you!" exclaimed Grace.

"So unexpected, dear Senator Montgomery," said Cora, in quite a grown-up way.

The Senator welcomed them; but he looked again after the retreating Nancy.

"Who is that pretty girl, Grace?" he asked, pointing out the object of his interest.

"Pretty girl, indeed!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Cora, under her breath.

"Why it's n.o.body but that Nelson--Nancy Nelson. A mere n.o.body."

"What name did you say?" demanded the senator, his green eyes very bright for a moment, and a little color coming into his face.

"Nancy Nelson."

"Who is she?"

"That's what we all ask," remarked his daughter, with an unpleasant laugh.

"Why do you say that, Grace?"

"Why, she's a n.o.body. She's got no friends, and no home--it's a disgrace to have her here at Pinewood. I wish you'd say something to the Madame about her."

"They tried to make _me_ room with her," said Cora Rathmore, boldly; "but I wouldn't stand for that long."

The Senator looked grave. "Come, tell me all about Nancy Nelson," he enjoined them, and sat down on a neighboring bench to listen.

Grace and Cora told their highly-colored version of the story circulated about Nancy during the first few weeks of her sojourn at Pinewood Hall.

"And do tell Madame Schakael what you think of her letting such a girl into the school," begged Grace, as the Senator arose and started towards the Hall again.

He did not say that he would. But to himself the Senator muttered, with puckered brow and half-shut eyes:

"Who would have thought it! That girl here--right where I sent Grace!

I--I certainly shall have to see Gordon about this. Hang his impudence!

What does he mean by sending that girl to a place like this?"

CHAPTER XXII

IS IT A CLUE?

The most beautiful sight she had ever seen! That was what Nancy Nelson enthusiastically called it when, from the end of the long line of girls, walking two by two, she saw the flower-crowned seniors winding from the Hall, through the sun-spattered grounds, to the old brick church on the highway, beyond the estate, where the baccalaureate sermon was always preached.

No girl, she was sure, could ever be disloyal to Pinewood Hall, after having once seen the graduation procession. And then, the graduating girls themselves! Why, they were all ready for college!

How much they must know! Nancy sighed with envy, and hoped heartily that she would be able to remain at Pinewood long enough to be a chief figure in a similar spectacle.

Corinne Pevay looked like an angel. And Carrie Littlefield read the valedictory. To the mind of the girl just finishing her freshman year, these great girls--real young ladies, now!--were so far above her that it almost made her blink to look at them.

At Higbee School cla.s.s after cla.s.s had been graduated above Nancy, and she had seen the day approach--even her own graduation--without much excitement. But this was an entirely different occasion.

She had something to look forward to this summer. At the break-up for the long vacation she was going to have just as much part in the bustle as anyone.