e war of 1812, wasn't it, B'lindy?"

Nancy's mind was working faster than the knitting needles in her
fingers. For three days now she had sat very close to Aunt Sabrina,
learning "all about the Leavitts."

"It's lucky I have a good head for history," she said to herself,
nodding to show Aunt Sabrina that she was deeply interested in these
Joshuas and Johns and Jacobs. "If I'm here long enough she _may_ get
down to the present generation! Joshua--John--Jacob," she repeated
softly.

"Dear me, where _is_ B'lindy? My memory isn't as good as it used to
be. I'm growing to be an old woman. But the Bible in there tells how
either John or Jacob fell at Fort Niagara. The Leavitts have always
been brave men--and men of honor!"

At this point Nancy, quite involuntarily, dropped a stitch. The sudden
color that flushed her cheeks escaped Aunt Sabrina's notice, for
B'lindy's voice came suddenly through the open door.

"Miss Sabriny, if Jon'than don't get that cornstarch from Eaton's there
won't be no cornstarch puddin' for dinner. He's worse than no good
round the house and a body takes more steps huntin' him than doin' all
his chores for him!"

Nancy sprang to her feet. "Oh, _please_ let me find him! I--I'd love
to walk around a bit, too. I'll speak very sternly, B'lindy--you just
see if he doesn't go at once!" Tossing her red wool into the cushion
of the old rocker she had been occupying, Nancy was off before the
astonished B'lindy or Aunt Sabrina could utter a protest.

She found Jonathan at his everlasting digging. Nancy shook him
playfully by the arm. Jonathan could not guess that her eyes were
bright because, for a few moments at least, she had escaped from the
oppressiveness of Aunt Sabrina and her ancestors; his old heart warmed
to her infectious smile.

"B'lindy's as cross as can _be_! She must have the cornstarch at
_once_! I hate cornstarch pudding worse than poison, but you must
hurry as fast as you can, and _please_ go by the lilac side of the
house, because Miss Sabrina is sitting over on the hollyhock porch
talking ancestors and I want her to think that it's taking me forever
to find you!"

"Cornstarch! Bless my boots!" A hundred wrinkles crossed the weather
beaten old face. "I'll go off to Eaton's fast's ever I can, Missy."

"Nice Jonathan," and picking a posy, Nancy stuck it into the buttonhole
of the gardener's sweater. "And _I'm_ going fast's ever I can,
straight out to the lake."