It was two days before Tom sneaked in again and took his thrashing
dourly. Little Nance had shut her lips tight when her father questioned
her, and refused to say a word. But he was satisfied as to where the
blame lay and administered justice with a heavy hand.

Bernel--as soon as he grew to persecutable age--provided Tom with
another victim. But time was on the victims' side, and when Nance got to
be twelve--Bernel being then eight and Tom eighteen--their combined
energies and furies of revolt against his oppressions put matters more
on a level.

Many a pitched battle they had, and sometimes almost won. But, win or
lose, the fact that they had no longer to suffer without lifting a hand
was great gain to them, and the very fact that they had to go about
together for mutual protection knitted still stronger the ties that
bound them one to the other.

But, though little Nance's earlier years suffered much from the black
shadow of brother Tom, they were very far from being years of darkness.

She was of an unusually bright and enquiring disposition, always
wanting to see and know and understand, interested in everything about
her, and never satisfied till she had got to the bottom of things, or at
all events as far down as it was possible for a small girl to get.

Her lively chatter and ceaseless questions left her mother and Grannie
small chance of stagnation. But, if she asked many questions--and some
of them posers--it was not simply for the sake of asking, but because
she truly wanted to know; and even Grannie, who was not naturally
talkative, never resented her pertinent enquiries, but gave freely of