"Never mind that, Nancy. Remember, as _I_ shall, that _you_ were not the naughty, disgusting child," said Mrs. Fenton, and she turned, with her letters and glasses in her hand, and went up the long stairway to her room. It was nearly time to dress for dinner, which was always served promptly at six. Mrs. Dainty with Dorothy, and Aunt Charlotte with Nancy hastened to their rooms, to freshen their toilettes, and Nancy realized that there would not be time to tell Aunt Charlotte all about the unpleasant happening. "I've something to tell you, but I'll have to wait till we've plenty of time," she said. Aunt Charlotte, tying the soft, blue ribbon into the brown curls, looked into the mirror before which they were standing, and smiled at the thoughtful face. "Will it keep until then, dear?" she asked. "Oh, yes," said Nancy, "I only tell it to you because I love to tell you everything." "Dear child," said Aunt Charlotte, "I bless the day that you, as a little waif, were taken in by Mrs. Dainty, and that I was asked to come and care for you. I could not love you more if you were my own little girl." "I never saw my own mamma; she died when I was a baby," said Nancy, "so, because you love me, you seem like my very own." Gentle Aunt Charlotte's eyes were wet with happy tears, as she hooked the pretty, white muslin frock, with its slip of light blue, and tied the soft blue belt. "Your shoes must be changed, Nancy," she said. "You know how particular Mrs. Dainty is about the matter of shoes and stockings. They must match the frock." "Oh, yes," said Nancy, "and with this one she said: 'Wear blue stockings and bronze slippers,' so I will." She found the blue hose and the pretty bronze slippers, then, with elfin grace, she caught the edge of her skirt, and with rosy, bare feet, tripped across the floor in a graceful, gliding step, crying: "Look, Aunt Charlotte, look! This pretty step Bonfanti taught me." Aunt Charlotte did look, and as she watched the pretty child, and saw her joy in dancing, she marvelled that little Nancy could smile as she danced, remembering all that she had been taught, while apparently forgetting all the unhappy months upon the stage. She thought of poor little Nancy, forced to dance, night after night, to support her old Uncle Steve, who was too lazy to support himself. She thought of the time that the little pitiful note from Nancy had reached them, and, together, she and Mrs. Dainty had found the child, and brought her safely home. She did not speak of all this. Nancy's happy little heart should never be reminded of sad days that were past. Now her life was filled with bright sunshine, the sunshine of love, and it was reflected in her happy face. A gong rang out a silvery note. "Oh, my shoes!" cried Nancy, with a peal of merry laughter. "I wanted to show you those pretty steps, and I forgot all about dinner."