“You needn’t worry about that,” again Nancy intervened, sympathetically.
“You are a kind girl, Nancy Brandon, and I guess your mother has made no mistake in buying the Whatnot Shop for you. You’ll be sure to make friends, and that’s what counts next to bargains, in business,” declared the woman, who had risen from the big chair and was staring at Nancy in the oddest way.
“If I had a chance—” again the woman paused and bit her thin lip. She seemed to dread what she evidently must say.
“I’ll be busy here tomorrow,” suggested Nancy briskly, “and then perhaps you would like to help me. But I really would like to get the rough dirt out first. Then we can put things to rights.”
“The fact is,” continued Miss Townsend, without appearing to hear Nancy’s suggestion, “I have a suspicion.”
“A suspicion? About this—store?”
“Yes, and about my brother. He’s an old man and we’ve never had any real trouble before, but I’m sorry to say, I can’t believe he’s telling me the truth about an important matter. That is, it’s a very important matter to me.”
“Oh,” said Nancy lamely. She was beginning to have doubts of Miss Townsend’s mental balance.
“No, Elmer is a good man. He’s been a good brother, but there are some things—” (a long, low, breathful sigh,) “some things we have individual opinions about. And, well, so you won’t think me queer if I ask you to let me tidy the shop?”
“Why—no, of course not, Miss Townsend.”