withdrew his hands from his
pockets, updrew his legs, and surveyed the long row of girls opposite,
beginning at the head of the hall. As his eyes reached us, a flash of
recognition shot across; he raised his hand as if to salute us, and
I noticed that it was remarkably handsome, small and white, and
ornamented with an old-fashioned ring. It was our habit, after the
exercises were over, to gather round Dr. Price, to exchange a few
words with him. And this occasion was no exception, for Dr. Price,
with his double spectacles, and his silk handkerchief in his hand,
was answering our questions, when feeling a touch, he stopped, turned
hastily, and saw the stranger.

"Will you be so good as to introduce me to the two young ladies near
you? We have met before, but I do not know their names."

"Ah," said the Doctor, taking off his spectacles and wiping them
leisurely; then raising his voice, said, "Miss Cassandra Morgeson and
Miss Helen Perkins, Mr. Ben Somers, of Belem, requests me to present
him to you. I add the information that he is, although a senior,
suspended from Harvard College, for participating in a disgraceful
fight. It is at your option to notice him."

"If he would be kind enough," said Mr. Somers, moving toward us, "to
say that I won it."

"With such hands?" I asked.

"Oh, Somers," interposed the Doctor, "have you much knowledge of the
Bellevue Pickersgills' pedigree?"

"Certainly; my grandpa, Desmond Pickersgill, although he came to this
country as a cabin boy, was brother to an English earl. This is our
coat of arms," showing the ring he wore.

"That is a great fact," answered the Doctor.

"This lad," addressing me, "belongs to the family I spoke of to you, a
member of which married one of your name."

"Is it possible? I never heard much of my father's family."

"No," said the Doctor dryly; "Somers has no coat of arms. I expected,
when I asked you, to hear that the Pickergills' history was at your
fingers' ends."

"Only above the second joint of the third finger of my left hand."

I thought Dr. Price was embarrassing.

"Is your family from Troy?" Mr. Somers asked me, in a low tone.

"Do you dislike my name? Is that of Veronica a better one? It is my
sister's, and we were named by our great-grandfather, who married a
Somers, a hundred years ago."

Miss Black, my Barmouth teacher, came into my mind, for I had said the
same thing to her in my first interview; but I was recalled from my
wanderi