e a
lonely old man, always troubled by the thought that the only reason
people would be nice to him was because they were hoping to profit by
it."

"He made it very clear that he has no intention of--of helping us in
that way," said Mrs. Prescott.

"And I'm glad of it. I'm glad of it!" cried Nancy. "I don't want to
act and think and live to conciliate a rich relative. I think that
must be the most hateful position in the world. I want to forget that
Uncle Thomas is very rich and very old--just as he wants us to forget
it. I want to make my own life, and have no one to thank or to blame
for whatever I accomplish but myself."

"What an independent lassie! You are right, dear," said Mrs. Prescott,
touching the little curls around Nancy's flushed face affectionately.
"You are right. You are like a boy, aren't you? I was never that way
myself--and that was the trouble. You have such good sense, my dear.
Whatever am I going to do without you?"

CHAPTER VIII

THE FIRST NIGHT AT SCHOOL

Miss Leland's school wore that sober title with a somewhat frivolous
air. It seemed to be saying, "Oh, call me a school if you want to--but
don't take me seriously." It was like a pretty girl, who puts on a
pair of bone-rimmed spectacles in fun and assumes a studious
expression, while the dimples lurk in her cheeks.

It was a low, rambling, white building, with a stately colonial
portico, and broad porches at each wing. In front, an immaculate lawn
swept to the trim hedges that bordered the road; in the back, this lawn
sloped downward to a grove of trees, which were now almost bare. Under
them stood several picturesque stone benches, while just beyond lay a
wide, terrace-garden with a sun-dial in the centre. Altogether, it
resembled a pleasant country place, dedicated to merriment and good
cheer.

Through the dusk of a rather bleak autumn night, its friendly lights
shone out comfortably as the two Prescotts jogged up to the door in the
station wagon.

The trip up from the Broadmore Station had not, however, been a lively
one, despite the fact that two other girls besides the Prescotts had
taken the hack with them; the first spasm of homesickness having
evidently seized them all simultaneously. One of the girls, a little,
sallow-faced creature, sat like a mouse in her corner, and by
occasional dismal sniffles, gave notice that she was weeping and did
not want to be disturbed. The other, a plump miss with scarlet