(The family had taken fright after Lucy had gone; they had doubted the possibility of so much good fortune coming their way; they had trembled with apprehension lest a letter should reach them next morning informing them that some other school had been recommended to Lady Randolph, or that Miss Trevor feared that the air of the heath would be too keen for her little brother; and Mary had, as usual, put herself in the breach. “I will go and find out,” she had said; “they can not eat me, at the very worst.” This was Mary’s way; the rest of the house waited and fretted, and made all around them miserable, but she preferred to cut the knot.) “You see, Miss Trevor,” she continued, “mamma is very anxious to get a good connection. I do not care so much, for my part; but it is gentlemen’s sons she wants, and she thinks that if we were known to have your brother--” “But I am nobody,” said Lucy, “and Jock is-- Papa was only a school-master himself. He was not even a good school-master. He taught the common people; and I don’t think that having Jock would make much difference.” Mary looked at her with wistful eyes. “He is your brother,” she said. “But, indeed, indeed, I am nobody,” cried Lucy, “scarcely a lady at all, only allowed to live here, and be well thought of, because I have a great deal of money. I am not so good as you are; even Katie, though she was known to be poor, they said at school, ‘She is one of the Russells.’ Now that could never be said of me; I am not one of the anybodies,” Lucy said, with a little smile. “I have nothing but my money,” she added, eying Mary with great earnestness; “it is good for something; there are some things, indeed, that it can do;” here she paused, and looked at the other girl again very doubtfully, almost anxiously. Mary did not know what it meant. She had come as a supplicant, wistfully desirous of making a good impression upon the rich and fortunate heiress. Only to be connected in the most superficial way with this favorite of fortune would do them good, her mother thought. But she was deeply puzzled by Lucy’s look at her, which was wistful too. “Yes, there is a great deal that it can do,” said Mary. “When one has so very, very much, it is as good as being born a princess. It is better to be of a good family when you have only a little, but when you are as rich as--as an ‘Arabian Night,’ what does it matter? Other boys would come from other prosperous places if it were known that you had brought your brother.” “I wish,” cried Lucy, “oh! I wish that I could do more than that.” Mary’s cheeks grew crimson; she tried to laugh. “That is all we want, Miss Trevor. We want only a good connection, and to get our school known.” In a moment the characters of the two girls had changed; it was the heiress that was the supplicant. She looked very anxiously in the other’s eyes, who, on her side, understood somehow, though she knew nothing about it.