Nancy was silent for a moment. But she was a perfectly honest girl and she knew she was allowing Scorch to gain a wrong impression.
“He—he isn’t my guardian,” she blurted out as they crossed the street.
“Hey? I thought you said he was!”
“And I thought so, then. This is the first time I ever saw him. He says he is not my guardian and that he doesn’t know anything about me. He only has money sent to him to spend for me.”
“You don’t mean it?” cried Scorch, his eyes twinkling. “That’s like a story; ain’t it? You’re the mysterious heiress who doesn’t know who she is. That’s great!”
“Do you think so?” demanded Nancy, rather warmly. “Well, let me tell you it isn’t nice at all.”
“Why not?” demanded the romance-loving youth.
“Why.... The girls at school think it’s so odd. I’m just Miss Nobody from Nowhere. And they’ve all got folks.”
“Gee!” observed Scorch, getting a new idea of the situation.
They reached the door of the fashionable restaurant and Scorch led the way in with characteristic sang froid. He would have approached a king or an emperor with perfect ease. Nothing ever “feazed” him, as he was wont to boast.