el," cried Will, sitting up still straighter
in the hammock, and regarding Tilly with a look of respect.

"Because I don't care anything for Boston's grand folks and do care for
'Jack Hall'?" laughed Tilly.

"Yes, that's about it," responded Will, with a little grin. "I'm so sick
and tired," he went on, "hearing about 'swells' and money. The best
fellow I know at school is quite poor; and one of the worst of the lot
is what you'd call a swell, and has no end of money."

"There are all kinds of swells, Master Willie. Why, you know perfectly
well that you belong to the swells yourself," retorted Dora.

"I don't!" growled Will.

"Well, I should just like to hear what your cousin Frances would say to
that."

"Oh, Fan!" cried Will, contemptuously.

"If you don't think much of the old Wentworth name--"

"I do think much of it," interrupted Will. "I think so much of it that I
want to live up to it. The old Wentworths were splendid fellows, some of
'em; and all of 'em were jolly and generous and independent. There
wasn't any sneaking little brag and snobbishness in 'em. They 'd have
cut a fellow dead that had come around with that sort of stuff;" and
sixteen-year-old Will nodded his head with an emphatic movement that
showed his approval of this trait in his ancestors.

Dora looked at him curiously; then with a faint smile she said,--

"Your cousin Frances is so proud of those old Wentworths. She's often
told me how grandly they lived, and she's so pleased that her name
Frances is the name of one of the prettiest of the Governor's wives."

"Yes; and one of the prettiest, and I dare say one of the best of 'em,
was a servant-girl in Governor Benning Wentworth's kitchen, and he
married her out of it. Did Fan ever tell you that?" and Will chuckled.

Amy Robson stared at Will with amazement as she exclaimed,--

"Well, I never saw such a queer boy as you are,--to run your own family
down."

"I'm not running 'em down. 'Tisn't running 'em down to say that one of
'em married Martha Hilton. Martha Hilton was a nice girl, though she was
poor and had to work in a kitchen. Plenty of nice girls--farmers'
daughters--worked in that way in those old times; the New England
histories tell you that."

Not one of the girls made any comment or criticism upon this statement,
for Will Wentworth was known to be well up in history; but after a
moment or two of silence, Dora burst forth in this wise,--

"You may talk as you like. Will