I am sure the rooms I went into this evening were
quite shabby--nearly as shabby as ours, and much gloomier. What does it
matter?"

"It does not matter to you," said Nora; "because you are their relation.
It is different for us. You belong to them and we don't."

"I think you are quite wrong to talk in that way. It is nothing so very
great and grand to be related to the Brands."

"They are '_County_' people," said Nora, with a scornful little emphasis
on the word. "They are like your grand Adairs: they would look down on a
country doctor and his family, except just now and then when they could
make them useful."

"Look down on father? What are you thinking of?" cried Janetta, warmly.
"Nobody looks down on father, because he does good, honest work in the
world, and everybody respects him; but I am afraid that a good many
people look down on the Brands. You know that as well as I do, Nora; for
you have heard people talk about them. They are not at all well thought
of in this neighborhood. I don't suppose there is much honor and glory
to be gained by relationship to them."

In which Janetta was quite right, and showed her excellent sense. But
Nora was not inclined to be influenced by her more sagacious sister.

"You may say what you like," she observed; "but I know very well that it
is a great advantage to be related to 'the County.' Poor papa has no
connections worth speaking of, and mamma's friends are either
shopkeepers or farmers; but your mother was the Brands' cousin, and see
how the Adairs took you up! They would never have made a fuss over
_me_."

"What nonsense you talk, Nora!" said Janetta, in a disgusted tone.

"Nonsense or not, it is true," said Nora, doggedly; "and as long as
people look down upon us, I don't want any of your fine friends and
relations in Gwynne Street."

Janetta did not condescend to argue the point; she contented herself
with telling her sister of Wyvis Brand's desire that the story of his
wife's separation from him should not be known, and the two girls agreed
that it would be better to mention their evening's adventure only to
their father.

It was quite dark when they reached home, and they entered the house in
much trepidation, fearing a volley of angry words from Mrs. Colwyn. But
to their surprise and relief Mrs. Colwyn was not at home. The children
explained that an invitation to supper had come to her from a neighbor,
and that "after a great deal of fuss," as one of them