"Oh, it ain't nigh as bad as you think," remarked Mr. Sanders, as cheerfully as he could. "But I want to settle a p'int or two. Do you remember what time it was when Gabriel come home the night Hotchkiss was killed?" Mrs. Lumsden reflected a moment. "Why, he went out directly after supper, and came in--well, I don't remember when he came in. I must have been asleep." "Um-m," grunted Mr. Sanders. "Is it important?" Mrs. Lumsden asked. "It may turn out to be right down important," replied Mr. Sanders, and then he said no more, but sat looking at the floor, and wondering how Gabriel could be released from the tangled web that the spider, Circumstance, had woven about him. As Mr. Sanders went out, he met Nan at the door, and he was amazed at the change that had come over her. Perplexity and trouble looked forth from her eyes, and there was that in her face that Mr. Sanders had never seen there before. "Why, honey!" he exclaimed, "you look like you've lost your best friend." "Well, perhaps I have. Who is in there?" And when Mr. Sanders told her, she cried out, "Oh, why don't they leave her alone?" "Well, they ain't pesterin' her much, honey. Go right in. Lucy Lumsden has got as much grit as a major gener'l, an' she'll be glad to see you." But Nan stood staring at Mr. Sanders, as if she wanted to ask him a question, and couldn't find words for it. Her face was pale, and she had the appearance of one who is utterly forspent. "Why, honey, what ails you? I never seed you lookin' like this before." "You've never seen me ill before," answered Nan. "I thought the walk would do me good, but the sun--oh, Mr. Sanders! please don't ask me anything else." With that, she ran up the steps very rapidly for an ill person, and stood a moment in the hallway. "Be jigged ef she ain't wuss hit than any on us!" declared Mr. Sanders, to himself, as he turned away. "What a pity that she had to go an' git grown!" Following the sound of voices, Nan went into the library. Mrs. Lumsden, who was still walking about restlessly, paused and tried to smile when she saw Nan; but it was only a make-believe smile. Nan went directly to her, and stood looking in the old gentlewoman's eyes. Then she kissed her quite suddenly and impulsively. "Nan, you must be ill," Miss Fanny Tomlin declared. "I am, Aunt Fanny; I am not feeling well at all." "Lie there on the sofa, child," Mrs. Lumsden insisted. Taking Nan by the arm, she almost forced her to lie down. "If you-all are talking secrets, I'll go away," said Nan. "No, child," remarked Mrs. Lumsden; "we are talking about trouble, and trouble is too common to be much of a secret in this world." She seated herself on the edge of the sofa, and held Nan's hand, caressing it softly. "This is the way I used to cure Gabriel, when he was ill or weary," she said in a tone too low for the others to hear. "Did you?" whispered Nan, closing her eyes with a sigh of satisfaction.