"It isn't because of what
you would guess if you knew no better. I have a very great friendship
for those people; but it isn't the other feeling--the kind that you were
telling me about. If it is--oh, if it is--I shall never forgive myself."

"In time--yes. It is quite easy to forgive yourself on account of those
people. I found it so."

"Oh, don't! You make me feel as if I ought never to speak to myself."

"Then don't," said Mrs. Dorrington, calmly. "You can speak to me instead
of to that ignorant girl."

"Oh, you sweetest!" cried Nan, hugging her step-mother; "I am going to
have you for my doll."

"Very well, then," said Mrs. Dorrington, shrugging her shoulders; "but
you will have some trouble on your hands--yes, more than those people
give you."

"Johnny, you are my little mother, and you never gave me any trouble in
your life. I am the one that is troublesome; I am troubling you now."

"Silly thing! will you be good?" cried Mrs. Dorrington, tapping Nan
lightly on the cheek. "How can you trouble me when I don't know what you
mean? You haven't told me."

"I thought you could guess as well as I can," replied Nan.

"About some things--yes; but not about this terrible danger that is to
overcome those people."

Whereupon, Nan told Mrs. Dorrington of the conversation she and Gabriel
had overheard. To this information she added her suspicions that Gabriel
intended to do something desperate; and then she gave a very vivid
description of the strange white man, of his pale and eager countenance,
his glittering, shifty eyes, and his thin, cruel lips.

Instead of shuddering, as she should have done, Mrs. Dorrington laughed.
"But I don't see what the trouble is," she declared. "That boy is ever
so large; he can take care of himself. But if you think not, then ask
him to tea."

Nan frowned heavily. "But, Johnny, tea is so tame. Think of rescuing a
friend from danger by means of a cup of tea! Doesn't it seem
ridiculous?"

"Of course it is," responded Mrs. Dorrington. "But it isn't half so
ridiculous as your make-believe. Oh, Nan! Nan! when will you come down
from your clouds?"

Now, Nan's world of make-believe was as natural to her as the persons
and things all about her. No sooner had she guessed that it was
Gabriel's intention to find out what the Union League was for, and, in a
way, expose himself to some possible danger of discovery, than she
carried the whole matter into her land of make-believe as naturally