"I sincerely hope that no one will think for a moment that you have been kidnapped!"
"I shouldn't wonder if they did," she brightened in mischievous delight. "Wouldn't it be exceedingly funny?"
"It would," was the laconic reply, accompanied by a shrug of the shoulders.
Jean François removed Pierrett from his mouth. After examining the pipe carefully, he refilled it, and continued his smoke. Five minutes passed without a word, and then, looking up quite seriously at his charge, he said:
"See here, Nancy Bricktop, are you aware of the fact that you are no longer a ten-year-old child?"
Nance flushed, a trifle embarrassed.
"Anyone but myself," he continued, "would say you were pretty much of a grown-up woman.... My dear child—"
"Now, don't you 'my-dear-child' me," she cried tearfully. "All of them conspire against me, and you aren't a bit better!"
Jean François arose and placed his pipe in his pocket. He walked the length of the cart a half dozen times. It appeared to be rather a bad beginning.
"Nance," said he, turning and for the first time showing sympathy in his voice and manner, "Come! Tell me all about it. Why did you run away?"