"Were you?" Nancy was polishing her water glasses. "Sure, I was. When you had the headache and was crying. Don't you know?" "Oh, yes, I do remember," admitted Nancy. "But it's too foolish, Ted--" "Foolish nothing! I tell you I saw him go," Ted declared in a voice that admitted of no argument. "How funny!" cried Nancy. "Do _you_ really believe in that stuff, Ted?" she asked quizzically. "Oh, say!" Ted was too disgusted to attempt explanation. That any one should doubt _his_ eyes was beyond his understanding. "Well, I'll tell you," Nancy condescended. "I'm going to call on Miss Townsend soon, that is, mother and I are, because Miss Townsend has been sick, you know," she elucidated. "Then, I'm just going to ask her straight all about that weird story." "As if she'd tell," scoffed the boy. "Why, her own dog never left her house since she's been sick, if you want to know. What do you make out of that?" "Cute doggie," replied Nancy, now shutting off the gas stove to await her mother's coming. "And another thing, Ted, I wish you could see how that dog acts around this place." "I'm just thinking that maybe Miss Townsend is acting sick just to get back here," hazarded Ted. "I hope mother won't give in, if she is, for I like it here, don't you, Nan?" "Love it! Here's mother! Quick Ted, the ice water. There, let's hide!" The joy of a thing well done was Nancy's reward for her extra efforts. The little meal was indeed a credit to her, and that it gave her mother unmistakable pleasure was Nancy's greatest satisfaction. "I am always sure that you can do it, little girl," her mother told her, as they all three turned in to clear away the table things, "but I also know you have to find things out for yourself. How did you manage it all so nicely?" "Well, I didn't mean to tell you," Nancy sighed, "but I might just as well." "Better," chimed in Ted mischievously, as he scurried around to do his part in the clearing up ceremony. "All right," Nancy agreed affably. "I had better tell you, Mother. You see, it was the day of the sale--the church sale the girls were all going to. And I expected to get my cake at the French Bakery." "And you couldn't on account of the rain," Mrs. Brandon helped the recital along. "It never stopped for one half hour," Nancy added. "So I tried, that is I just _tried to make_ a cake." She drew in her lips and puckered her pretty face into a wry misgiving expression. Nancy was looking very pretty in her rose colored linen dress (the one her mother had finished off with peasant embroidery), and her dark eyes were agleam now with enthusiasm and interest. Frankly she told her mother the story of her spoiled cake, and how they all three laughed when the mother explained why it had failed--just because Nancy didn't know enough to grease the tins! Ted, all this time, was casting suspicious glances first at Nancy then at his mother. He seemed to be enjoying a secret that even his glances were not imparting to the others.