t
told me some things I was pleased to know.

"The man who gave you his card, my dear maiden, was your father's own
cousin, and I feel sure he once felt great love for your mother. He told
me of having seen a young maid who was so much the image of a beloved
friend of the past that he desired to know her name. And tears filled
his eyes when I showed him a small painted picture of your mother that
had lain in Mistress Brace's little trunk. For she would have us find
the trunk and see what was hiding inside."

"There!" again exclaimed Sally, "I have said to my Fairy, 'How know I
but Mistress Cory Ann hath things that were my mother's and should
belong to me?'"

"There was a cape of finest needlework," continued the parson, "probably
the one you saw, also a letter of importance, as it told the name of
your mother's family, and a few articles beside money, of value to you,
found in the little trunk. Here is the picture of your poor mamma."

Sally gazed with curious eyes at the little painting that was so like
her own face as seen in the mirror, that she exclaimed:

"It is like my own face!" and suddenly she kissed it, a quick, warm
kiss.

"I wonder what made me do that?" she asked, with a feeling of confusion.

"I think it was your warm French blood," said Parson Kendall.

"And what was my mother's name?" asked Sally.

"Earlscourt. She was of the same house as Lady Gabrielle, wife of Sir
Percival Grandison, although well removed. Officer Duquesne of the
British army thought your mother lost money through some of her
relatives, who have died, so nothing can be proved."

"Enough has been proved!" cried Maid Sally.

Parson Kendall smiled.

"There speaketh your good Fairy," he said; "enough _has_ been proved.
You are of noble blood on your father's side, and the Earlscourts hold
themselves to be of the best, as no doubt they are. What better could'st
thou wish?"

Sally was speechless.

She had not taken in the whole truth of the last fact until it was thus
plainly set before her.

Of kin to her Fairy Prince!

Could it be true? Yet here sat Parson Kendall, who had heard the story
from her father's own cousin, a man who knew root and branch all the
truth as to her kindred and relations.

"I think I had better go away and be alone by myself," said Sally, her
face crimson, a feverish light in her eyes.

"We will say nothing of this outside the house for the present," advised
the parson. "Officer Duquesne is