t barely remember
father speaking of her. Read it, Claire!"

Claire had seized the letter and opened it. "It is signed 'Your loving
aunt.' Isn't it the most ridiculous mystery? Why _couldn't_ it have
been something else besides an aunt!"

"Well, I'm awfully afraid it _is_ for me. We never could _both_ have
aunts on North Hero Island. Go on, blessed child--I'm prepared for the
worst!"

Claire rose dramatically.

"My dear Niece," she read, adding: "I want you to _know_, Anne, that
she honors you by spelling that with a capital." "Of later years it
has been a matter of deep regret to me that though the same blood runs
in our veins we are like strangers, and that you have been allowed to
grow to womanhood without knowing the home of your forefathers on this
historic island. It is for that reason that now, after considerable
debate with my conscience, I am writing to you at your college address
which I have obtained through a chance article in an Albany newspaper
('that was the Senior Play write-up,' interrupted Nancy, excitedly) to
urge you to avail yourself of the earliest opportunity to visit me in
the old home.

"I feel the burden and responsibility of my increasing years, and I
know that soon I will be called to that land where our forefathers have
gone before us. You are, I believe, my nearest of kin--the family, as
you must know, is dying out and I would have preferred that you had
been a boy--I will tell you frankly that I am considering changing my
will and that upon your visit depends whether or not you will be my
beneficiary. I would wish to leave the home and my worldly wealth--the
wealth of the past Leavitts, to a Leavitt, but before I can do so to
the satisfaction of my own conscience, I must know that you are a
Leavitt and that you have been brought up with a true knowledge and
respect for what being a Leavitt demands of you,

"I await your reply with anxiety. Your visit will give me pleasure and
I assure you that you will learn to love the spot on which, for so many
generations, your ancestors have lived."

"Your Loving Aunt,
"SABRINA LEAVITT."

"Well, I'll be----" In all her college vocabulary Anne could not find
the word to express her feelings.

"Isn't that rapturous? A great-aunt and a fortune! And will you
_please_ tell me why she had to debate with her conscience?" cried
Claire.

Nancy was gleeful over Anne's wrath.

"I'm glad she's yours, Annie darling! Dad always s