What she meant he had not the least idea, and it was not the first nor the last time that his wit lacked the nimbleness to follow and catch her meaning. "Disagreeable!" he exclaimed. "Why, I was simply going to say that if I had been in Bethune's shoes to-day, I should have declared that you did the proper thing." Nan dropped a low curtsey, saying, "Oh, thank you, sir--what was the gentleman's name, Cephas--the gentleman who was such a cavalier?" "Was he a Frenchman?" asked Cephas. "Oh, Cephas! you should be ashamed. You have as little learning as I." With that she turned and went along the path at such a rapid pace that it was as much as the lads could do to keep up with her, without breaking into an undignified trot. Nan went home with Gabriel; was there before him indeed, for he paused a moment to say something to Cephas. She ran along the walk, took the steps two at a time, and as she ran skipping along the hallway, she cried out: "Grandmother Lumsden! where are you? Oh, what do you think? Margaret Gaither has come home!" When Gabriel entered the room, Nan had fetched a footstool, and was already sitting at Mrs. Lumsden's feet, holding one of the old lady's frail, but beautiful white hands. Here was another picture, the beauty of which dawned on Gabriel later--youth and innocence sitting at the feet of sweet and wholesome old age. The lad was always proud of his grandmother, but never more so than at that moment when her beauty and refinement were brought into high relief by her attitude toward Nan Dorrington. Gabriel was very happy to be near those two. Not for a weary time had Nan been so friendly and familiar as she was now, and he felt a kind of exaltation. "Margaret Gaither! Margaret Gaither!" Gabriel's grandmother repeated the name as if trying to summon up some memory of the past. "Poor girl! Did you see her, Gabriel? And how did she look?" With a boy's bluntness, he described her physical condition, exaggerating, perhaps, its worst features, for these had made a deep impression on him. "Oh, I'm so sorry for her! and she has a daughter!" said Mrs. Lumsden softly. "I will call on them as soon as possible. And then if poor Margaret is unable to return the visit, the daughter will come. And you must be here, Nan; Gabriel will fetch you. And you, Gabriel--for once you must be polite and agreeable. Candace shall brush up your best suit, and if it is to be mended, I will mend it." Nan and Gabriel laughed at this. Both knew that this famous best suit would not reach to the lad's ankles, and that the sleeves of the coat would end a little way below the elbow. "I can't imagine what you are laughing at," said Mrs. Lumsden, with a faint smile. "I am sure the suit is a very respectable one, especially when you have none better." "No, Grandmother Lumsden; Gabriel will have to take his tea in the kitchen with Aunt Candace."