“I thought not,” observed Jennie. “Just because Scorch reminded him of your existence wasn’t likely to make him send you money. I bet he handles plenty more belonging to you that you never see.”
“But see to what an expensive school he has sent me!” cried Nancy.
“Maybe he was obliged to do so. Perhaps he only does just what he is told to do, after all. There may be somebody behind Mr. Gordon, who is watching both him and you.”
“My goodness! You make it all more mysterious than it was before,” sighed Nancy. “Just the same, if these girls learn all about me they’ll spread it around that I’m just a foundling, and that nobody knows anything about me. It is going to be dreadfully hard.”
“Now, you pluck up your spirit, Nance Nelson!” commanded Jennie Bruce. “Don’t be so milk-and-watery. You’re just as good as they are.”
“I don’t know. At least, my folks may not have been as good as their folks.”
“Well, I’d never let ’em guess it,” cried Jennie. “You’re scared before you are hurt, Nance; that’s what is the matter with you.”