“Ye’re a kind little thing; ye’d do it quick fer me, but it ain’t fer me I’m askin’,” Sue replied.

“Is it for the doctor who helped me to get well?  I’d do something just as quick for him.  Uncle Steve was going to make me dance when I was sick, but the big doctor said I shouldn’t, and Uncle Steve didn’t dare.”

As she spoke Nancy’s clear brown eyes looked up into Sue’s blue ones, and Sue’s cheek flushed.  She looked down at the sidewalk.

“It ain’t fer the doctor,” she said; “he’s gone ter Europe, but he’s payin’ my wages whilst he’s gone, an’ I’m stayin’ with a woman what I worked fer before.  Nancy, it’s yer aunt I’m with, an’ it’s her that made me come!”

Nancy started back in terror.  With frightened eyes she stared a moment at the girl, then turned to run.

“Oh, Nancy, Nancy!  Come here!” cried Sue.  “Ye don’t understand.”

Nancy paused, but she did not take a step nearer.

Sue hastened towards her, and Nancy seemed about to run again.

“Don’t run away, Nancy,” pleaded the girl, “I know what ye think; ye think yer Uncle Steve’s after yer, but ye can be sure he ain’t.  Yer Uncle Steve’s dead, an’ I do’no’s ye need try ter be very sorry.”

Nancy came back to where Sue was standing.  “Is it true?” she asked.

“Honest an’ true,” said Sue, “an’ all yer aunt wants me ter git yer fer is because she’s sick, an’ she wants ter see yer.  Oh, if yer could see her, Nancy, ye’d hate ter say ‘no.’  She keeps askin’ fer yer all day, an’ when I told her I’d find yer, an’ ask yer ter come an’ jest let her look at yer, she looked brighter’n she had fer days.”

“But I’m afraid to go to the city to see her,” said Nancy.

“She ain’t in the city.  She’s in a town only a little ways from here.  Ye could go with me in just no time, an’ ye’d do her so much good.”

“Why?”

Nancy asked the question in wonder.  It seemed strange that her aunt, who had never loved her, should now long to see her.

“She’s got something she wants ter give yer, an’ she’s got something she wants ter say, an’ she says she can’t rest till she sees ye.  It’s her worryin’ that won’t let her git well.  Ef she could see ye fer a little talk, an’ tell ye what she wants ter tell, I guess she’d git well right off.  Seems ef ye’d ought ter come with me, ef it’ll do so much good.”

Nancy’s eyes were full of tears, and her sensitive lips quivered.

“Oh, I wish I knew what to do!” she cried, clasping her hands together very tightly.

“Why, ask ’em ter let ye go,” said Sue; “they’d let ye ef they knew yer Uncle Steve wasn’t there, an’ yer aunt was jest pinin’ ter see yer.”

“I’m ’most sure they would if they knew, but everybody’s away.  If only Aunt Charlotte or Mrs. Dainty were here, I’d ask them.”

“Can’t ye write a note, an’ leave it at the cottage where yer Aunt Charlotte’ll find it as soon’s she gits home?  Ye kin tell her I took yer ter yer aunt what’s sick, an’ ef ye tell her ’bout yer Uncle Steve, she won’t worry.”