Dorothy Dainty's Gay Times Part 24

"Why, if she was my _stepmother_, of course I must have had an own mother once, but I never thought of it."

"She was a beauty, an' ye'll look like her when ye're a young lady. Her hair was dark an' curly, an' her figger was graceful. Her big dark eyes was melting, an' she could dance, oh, how she could dance!"

"My mamma danced?" questioned Nancy.

"She danced like a fairy. She was a stage dancer; there's where ye got yer nimble toes, but she died when ye wasn't a year old, an' yer father married that other woman who wa'n't n.o.body at all. Yer own ma was called 'Ma'm'selle Nannette' on the play-bills, an' she was a good woman, a sweet woman as ever lived."

"I wish I'd known her," Nancy said, her eyes filled with tears at the thought of the beautiful young mother whom she had never known.

"An' one thing I sent fer yer fer was this," and Mrs. Ferris took a small box from beneath her shawl. "What's in this box belonged ter yer own ma, an' how Steve got hold of it I don't know. I found it 'mong his things, an' when I see yer ma's name on to it, I knew he'd no right ter hev it. I took an' hid it, an' Steve tore 'round like mad a-tellin' that he'd been robbed, but he didn't say anything ter the perlice, 'cause he knew it didn't b'long ter him in the first place."

She opened the box and held up a slender gold necklace set with tiny brilliants.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Nancy clasped her hands together, and gasped, "Oh!--O--O!"]

Nancy clasped her hands together, and gasped, "Oh-o-o," in admiration.

"There's the name on the clasp," said Mrs. Ferris.

"When I found it I wondered why he hadn't sold it when he was hard up, which was often 'nough, goodness knows, but after I hid it, he said he'd kept holdin' on to it fer the time when he'd need the money more, but I think he was _'fraid_ ter sell it. Knowin' 'twa'n't his'n, he thought he _might_ git 'cused er hevin' stolen it."

Nancy took the pretty necklace, and held it so that it sparkled like dewdrops.

It was truly a charming bit of jewelry, not costly, but tasteful, and just what one might think would have shone resplendent upon the white throat of the beautiful Nannette.

"It's yours by good rights," Mrs. Ferris said, "an' I ain't like Steve was; I don't want nothin' that don't b'long ter me.

"Now I've given that ter ye, I feel some better. I've felt like a thief ever since I found it, an' knew who it b'longed ter. They's a note in the little box, an' when ye've puzzled over the flourishes done in fancy ink, ye kin read that that necklace was presented ter Ma'm'selle Nannette by, I forgot who, fer her beautiful dancin'."

Nancy looked as if she listened in a dream.

"An' one thing more I want ter tell ye. I never approved er Steve's stealin' ye. I told him 'twa'n't right, but he wouldn't listen, an' I couldn't help ye. I was as 'fraid er him as ye was, an' he was so headstrong, I had ter let him do as he wanted ter. I'm tired now, and ye'd better run out ter the kitchen with Sue. I know I'll feel better now I've freed my mind."

Nancy hurried to Sue to tell the wonderful story, and to show the necklace.

"And here's her name on the large flat side of the clasp," she said.

Sue's eyes sparkled with delight.

"And I didn't like to ask her how soon I could go home, just when she'd given the pretty thing to me, but, Sue," she continued, "don't you think she means _surely_ to let me go as early as to-morrow?"

"I do'no' what she means ter do, that is, not _exactly_, but p'raps ye won't hev ter ask her. Maybe she'll tell ye 'thout any teasin'."

Those who would like to see Dorothy and her many friends again, and to learn what became of Nancy, may meet them all again in "Dorothy Dainty in the Country."