Poor little Miss Manners! Hers had been a brave struggle, and as Nancy and her mother listened to the brokenly told story, they were easily ready to pardon the little lady's show of emotion. "So you were worried about your rent, principally?" Mrs. Brandon prompted her, kindly. "Yes. You see when I had to give up teaching on account of my health, I naturally turned to sewing," she explained. "If I had only been a teacher in a public school, instead of a private school, I shouldn't have been left without some means," she complained, sorrowfully. Nancy was watching her in silent contemplation. What a "sweet" little woman she was. The type always called little and sometimes referred to as "sweet" because of that indefinable quality usually associated with flowers. "You should not have worried so," Mrs. Brandon assured her. "You have done a great deal for us--I never could have left the children here alone without feeling sure of your watchful kindness, you know." "Now Mrs. Brandon," said Miss Manners, in a rather dictatorial tone, "I have done nothing at all for you, and I want to assure you that Nancy and Ted require very--little--watching." "And I want to say," spoke up Nancy, "that Miss Manners is the very nicest kind of a watch--a watch-woman," she laughed. "We never hear or see her when, perhaps, we are noisy and--and rackety." "I was afraid," continued Miss Manners, without apparently heeding Nancy's intended compliment, "that you might have been alarmed about the silly stories current around here. I mean, that especially about Mr. Sanders." "Yes," said Mrs. Brandon encouragingly. "We have heard queer tales of his remarkable powers, but I can't say they have alarmed us, Miss Manners." "You have too much sense, I'm sure, for that," she conceded. "But when one comes into a strange place and hears such stories, especially, when they have something to do with this little place--" "What could they have to do with _this_ place?" Nancy questioned sharply. "Surely, he doesn't do any disappearing around here." Both the older folks laughed at that. "No, not exactly," replied Miss Manners, "but you see, they say he influenced old Mr. Townsend until he spent his own and his sister's money. But for my part," she hurried to add, "I could never believe that Mr. Sanders is anything but a perfectly upright gentleman, and in no way responsible for the sad state of the Townsends' business affairs." "Then _you_ don't believe any of the stories about him, do you?" pressed Nancy. "Even Ted insists he saw him--fade away." The little woman, who seemed for the moment to have forgotten her troubles, looked from mother to daughter. It was so easy to interpret her thoughts. She was measuring Nancy's courage.