Nan, she informed Cephas, had expressed a determination to visit him at his own home, and, in fact, Cephas found her there. She was as sweet as sugar, and was not at all the same Nan who had drawn herself up proudly and as good as told Cephas that it was nothing to her that he was going to see Gabriel. No; this was another Nan, and she had a troubled look in her eyes that Cephas had never seen there before.
"I came to see if you were still angry, Cephas," she said by way of explanation. "I wasn't very nice to you, was I?"
"Well, I hope you don't mind Cephas," said the lad's mother. "If you do, he'll keep you guessing. Has he been rude to you, Nan?"
And it was then that Cephas heard praise poured on his name in a steady stream. Cephas rude! Cephas saucy! A thousand times no! Why, he was the best, the kindest, and the brightest child in the town. Nan was so much in earnest that Cephas had to blush.
"I didn't know," said his mother. "He has been going with those large boys so much that I was afraid he was getting too big for his breeches." She loved her son, but she had no illusions about the nature of boys; she knew them well.
"Are you still angry, Cephas?" Nan asked. She appeared very anxious to be sure on that score.
"N-o-o," replied Cephas, somewhat doubtfully; he hesitated to surrender the advantage that he saw he had.
"Yes, you are," said Nan, "and I think it is very unkind of you. I am sorry you misunderstood me; if you only knew how I really feel, and how much trouble I have, you would be sorry instead of angry."
"I'm the one to blame," said Cephas penitently. "Gabriel says you dislike him, and I thought he was only guessing. But he knew better than I did. I had no business to bother you."
Nan caught her breath. "Did Gabriel say I disliked him?"