hool told me, but I
daren't say a word about it to Dorothy, she's so proud and reserved. I
never even hint at it. Miss Sherbourne--that's her aunt--at least, not
her real aunt--oh! I'm getting muddled--well, Miss Sherbourne found her
in the train when she was a baby--there was a dreadful railway accident
at a place called Greenfield, and that's why she's called Dorothy
Greenfield--but it isn't her proper name, because they don't know
that--they never found out who she was--and Miss Sherbourne adopted her,
and Dorothy always calls her Auntie, though she's no relation at all.
And Hope Lawson says Dorothy's a charity child, and her parents may have
been quite poor; but I'm sure she's a lady, because--well--because she
somehow seems to have it in her. I think she's just lovely, and I like
her better than anyone else at school."

"Where did you hear this amazing story, Birdie?" exclaimed Mrs. Clarke.

"I told you, Mother dear--at the Coll. All the girls know about it. They
call Dorothy 'The Foundling' behind her back. Nobody dares to say it to
her face, because she gets into such tantrums. I think it makes her so
interesting. She may be the daughter of a nobleman, for what anyone
knows. Just imagine! Suppose she found out that her father was a duke!
Then she'd be Lady Dorothy. Don't you think, Mother, she looks
aristocratic? I do."

"I think you're a very silly child," returned Mrs. Clarke, with a
distinct tone of annoyance in her voice. "You must not bring girls to
the house without asking me first."

"But, Mother darling, you weren't in this afternoon, and I'd thought of
the tableaux, and I couldn't arrange any of the parts until I knew what
dresses would fit Dorothy. I simply had to get her to come and try them
on. And it was such fun having her to tea. Mayn't I ask her to spend the
day here next Saturday? Oh, and if you would let her stay until Monday,
we'd have such a glorious time!"

"Certainly not; I couldn't think of such a thing," replied Mrs. Clark
decisively.

"But, Mother--Mother dearest--why not? You said yourself what a nice
girl she looked that first day we saw her in the train, and how glad you
were that I had her to travel to school with."

"That was quite a different matter."

"But why shouldn't I have her to the house? Oh, Mother, I told Dorothy
that I meant to ask you to invite her, and if you don't I shall feel so
silly. What could I say to her? Mother sweetest, please, please!"

"You have no