"But I thought if I could see you, you would tell me all there was to know about myself--and my people; and that maybe I could talk about my guardian and make it all right with those new girls."
"I've told you all I know," said Mr. Gordon, almost sullenly, it seemed.
"Well, then, I--I guess I'll be going," said Nancy, faintly, and turning from the desk. "I--I'm sorry I bothered you, sir."
"Where are you going?" demanded the lawyer.
"Ha! I'll make sure that you get on the right train, at any rate," he said, and pressed a button under the edge of his desk. "Have you had your luncheon?"
He plucked a ten-dollar note out of his vest pocket and thrust it into her hand. "Get your luncheon." The door opened and the red-headed boy looked in. "Pay for 'Scorch's' luncheon, too."
"Take--take Miss Nancy Nelson to Arrandale's. Afterward take her to the station and put her aboard the right train for Clintondale. Understand?"
Mr. Gordon wheeled back to his desk. He did not even say good-bye to Nancy as Scorch held the door open for her to pass out.
"Say! ain't Old Gudgeon a good one?" murmured the red-headed boy, as he followed Nancy to the gate.
She did not answer. That lump had come back into her throat and she was industriously swallowing it. It seemed to her just then as though it would never be possible for her to eat luncheon at Arrandale's,--wherever that might be.
Scorch caught up his cap and hustled her out of the gate, and out of the main office door, and whistled shrilly to an elevator that was just shooting down.
"Come on, Nancy!" he said, with immense patronage. "We'll have a swell dinner and it takes time to do it. When does your train get away?"
"Golly! we are all right, then. We can talk over the eats, an' you can tell me your troubles and I'll relate the story of my life to you--eh?"
The girl tried to smile at him, for she realized that his chatter was kept up partly for the purpose of covering her disappointment. But Nancy was no baby-girl; by the time the elevator reached the lower floor of the building she had winked back her tears and the ache had gone out of her throat.
"This way, Nancy," said her conductor, cheerfully rushing her through the revolving door to the sidewalk. "There's Arrandale's over yonder. If I'd known I was going to eat at such a swell place to-day I'd have worn my glad rags--good duds, you know."