The Little Colonel's Chum: Mary Ware by Annie Fellows Johnston
page 53 of 224 (23%)
page 53 of 224 (23%)
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The rest weren't high enough caste for her. She sported a crest and all
that, and they found out that she hadn't a particle of right to it. Her father had struck it rich in some lumber deal, and _bought_ a gallery of ancestral portraits, and paid a man a small fortune to fix him up a coat of arms. She had no end of money, but she wasn't the real thing, and Cornie says that paste diamonds won't go down with _this_ school. They can spot them every time." Ethelinda made no comment for a moment, but presently asked in a strained tone, "Did you have any doubts of Miss Berkeley's claims? Is that why you looked her up in the peerage?" "No," said Mary, honestly. "I was looking for my own name. But there wasn't a single Ware in it. And then"--she couldn't resist this thrust, especially as she felt it was a part of the missionary work she had undertaken--"I looked for Hurst, too, as the girls said you had a crest." "Well?" came the question, a trifle defiantly. "It's not in the Peerage." Ethelinda drew herself up haughtily as if she disdained an explanation, yet felt forced to make one. "It is not my father's crest I use," she announced. "It came from back in my mother's family." "Oh!" said Mary, with significant emphasis. "I see!" Then she added cheerfully, "I could have one, too, on a count like _that_, way back among my great-grandmothers. But I wouldn't have any real right to it. You have to be in the direct line of descent, you know, and it is silly |
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