had a father or mother--"

"Oh, of course I had--some time," and Amy smiled through a mist of tears.
"Only there's a mystery about them--what became of them."

"Why I thought--all of us thought--that Mr. and Mrs. Stonington were your
parents," said the wondering Betty.

"So did I, until lately. Then I began to notice that papa and mamma--as I
thought them--were frequently consulting together. They always stopped
talking when I came near, but I supposed it might be about some plans
they had for sending me away to be educated in music. So I pretended not
to notice. Though I did not want to go away from dear Deepdale.

"Their queer consultations increased, and they looked at me so strangely
that finally I went to mamma--no, my aunt, as I must call her, and--"

"Your aunt!" exclaimed Betty.

"Yes, that is what Mrs. Stonington is to me; or, rather she was poor dear
mamma's aunt. I am going to call her aunt, however, and Mr. Stonington
uncle. They wish it."

"Oh, then they have told you?"

"Yes. It was the night before the day that I fainted in school. It was
thinking of that, I guess, that unnerved me."

"Why, Amy! A mystery about you?"