she, apparently.

"We can make it all right, I know," he continued, but for a time she
refused to be comforted.

"You would cry too, I guess, if you were in my place and would get
such an awful scolding at home."

"No doubt I would," assented Steve in deep distress.

"I wish I were dead and buried under a landslide," sobbed Nannie.

In the depth of her sorrow she wanted to delve deep into mother
earth.

"Oh, no. Don't wish that! What should we do without you?" said Steve
earnestly.

"Oh, you needn't to worry," replied Nannie pettishly, the violence of
her grief having spent itself. "Nothing so good as that is going to
happen. I shall live to get home and have my head taken off, and stalk
around as a torso ever afterward."

"Now do let me see if I can't set things to rights," said Steve.
"You've no idea how handy I am in such matters."

He proved the truth of his words by going to work upon the injured
gown, and after patient effort bringing it out of its dilapidated
condition in such shape that only a keen eye would detect any sign of
mishap.

Nannie was delighted and, stimulated by the excitement attendant upon
her rapid change of fortunes, became quite talkative.

"I wouldn't have minded it so much, but I have on one of my best
gowns, and Aunt Frances makes such a fuss every time she has to buy
me anything. She says it's of no use to spend on me. It don't amount
to a row of pins."

Steve looked at her inquiringly. In actual time he was many years her
senior, but Nannie had been in society for a season now, and even
young girls age fast there--too fast, by far.

"She means I don't bid fair to get married off well. I'm not very
popular, you know."

Still Steve was silent. Nannie was speaking in a language of which he
was ignorant.

"I dressed this morning to go to Joe Harding's breakfast, but I hate
him, and I went walking instead. Now I've got to see some of the girls
who went and make up a lot of stuff about it at home, or Aunt
Frances'll be awfully mad."

Steve looked into the beautiful face of the young girl who was talking
in this repellent fashion. Then he took her gently by the hand and
said in a firm, kindly tone:

"Nannie, you must come out of all this."

"How can I?" she asked. "I have no mother or father--no one who really
cares. I suppose I'll marry Joe Harding some day. He wants me, and
Aunt Frances keeps at me about it eternally, but I hate him."

"You must not marry him," said