oned in the county history of Devonshire as far
back as Queen Elizabeth's reign. Of course, her name was Greenfield, not
Sherbourne; but she was of the same lineage, and she had pasted the
family crest inside her school books. She would trace out her pedigree
that very evening right to Sir Thomas Sherbourne, who helped to fit out
a ship to fight the Armada; and she would take a copy to school
to-morrow and show it to Agnes, who could not fail to be convinced by
such positive evidence. Yes, the girls should see that, far from being a
nobody, she was really of a better family than Hope Lawson, whose claims
to position rested solely on her father's public services to the city of
Coleminster.

And yet under all her assurance there lurked an uneasy sensation of
doubt. She had taken it for granted that her mother was a Sherbourne;
but she remembered now that when she had spoken of her as such, Aunt
Barbara had always evaded the subject. Nobody ever mentioned her
parents. She had thought it was because they were dead; but surely that
was not a sufficient reason for the omission? Could there be another and
a stronger motive for thus withholding all knowledge about them? Several
things occurred to her--hints that had been dropped by Martha, the maid,
which, though not comprehended, had remained in her memory--looks,
glances, half-spoken sentences let fall by Aunt Barbara's friends--a
hundred nothings too small in themselves to be noticed, but, counted in
the aggregate, quite sufficient to strengthen the unwelcome suspicion
that had suddenly awakened.

"Rubbish!" thought Dorothy, with an effort to dispel the black shadow.
"I'll ask Aunt Barbara, and I've no doubt she'll easily explain it all
and set everything right."

By this time the train had passed Ash Hill, Burnlea, and Latchworth, and
had arrived at Hurford, Dorothy's station. She stepped out of the
compartment, so preoccupied with her reflections that she would have
forgotten her books, if a fellow-passenger had not handed them to her.
She scarcely noticed the Rector and his children, who were standing on
the platform, and, turning a deaf ear to the youngest boy, who called to
her to wait for them, she hurried off alone along the road.

It was a pleasant walk to her home, between green hedges, and with a
view of woods and distant hills. Hurford was quite a country place, and
could boast of thatched cottages, a market cross, and a pair of stocks,
although it lay barely