Nancy first and last

by Amy Ella Blanchard

"Will you stop that clatter, Ernest Kirkby?" cried Mrs. Manning. "The idea of a little whippersnapper like you daring to overrule me. Why, I have taken you home to your mother to spank, dozens of times, and I'd do it again if she were alive."

Mr. Kirkby put back his head and roared. He dearly loved to provoke just such speeches.

"Do stop your noise," said Mrs. Manning, shaking her head at him. "With such a roaring bull of Bashan about one can't think. What was I saying, Katharine? Oh, yes, about finding this boy. It is going to be some expense, isn't it?"

"Now, Mrs. Manning"—Mr. Kirkby became serious—"that is not a matter that we need discuss. The time to spend money hasn't come yet."

"Well, when that time does come there will need to be money to spend, won't there? What I was going to say, Katharine, was this: I see no use in your wasting your means on lodging houses and all that. You and Annie, no, it was to be Nancy, wasn't it? You and Nancy had best come right here and stay with us and save your money."

Then Anita understood why Aunt Manning was an old dear. But Mrs. Beltrán began to protest and Mrs. Manning turned suddenly to Lillian. "Go tell Tibbie to come get the tea things," she said, "and take Nancy with you. Show her the greenhouse and the garden, but don't let the dogs in. They will scratch up that new border I have been having Timpkins make. I want to talk to Katharine. I suppose I shall have to let Ernest stay, for a man does have the wit to understand a situation once in a while, though young people never do."

At this parting shot the two girls left the room. Anita was beginning to understand that Aunt Manning's bark was worse than her bite, and really felt that she could like her. There was a mocking glimmer in those sharp gray eyes which told the tale.

"She is having a lovely time," declared Lillian. "If there is anything Granny loves it is a bout with Mr. Kirkby. She adores him and he does her, although to hear them you would think they meant to tear each other's eyes out. There is Hotspur. You can make his acquaintance while I go speak to Tibbie."

Anita set herself to work to make friends with an amber-eyed tawny-hued Angora which lay curled up on the window-sill. He stretched himself lazily and responded to her strokings by loud purrs, opening one sleepy eye to view the unfamiliar presence. He evidently thought well of her, for he did not move, but continued his contented purrs and permitted the caresses. Haddie and Tommy, waiting outside, were at first in high glee when they saw the two girls come out, but stood in dejected attitude when they were forbidden to pass through the gate which led into the rambling garden.

The garden of itself was a delight, a riot of spring blossoms, and in the tiny greenhouse were other plants waiting to be set out. Among these plants, sunning himself on a ledge, they found Signor Verdi, a lithe green creature, tame enough to allow Lillian to scratch his head and to take him in her hand where he lay quietly enough, but flashed back among the green when Anita tried to make friends with him. "Sometimes in winter I lose sight of him for weeks," Lillian told her, "then some bright morning I come out and there he is as alive as possible."