"I always knew we had ancestors," said Betty thoughtfully, "but I never supposed any of them were lords. Is that the reason why you hate to accept things from people, mother?"
"I scarcely think that has much to do with it," Mrs. Randall said, laughing in spite of herself.
"Is your lord uncle in England now, mother?" Jack asked.
"I suppose so if he is still alive. He must be a very old man now, for he was several years older than your grandfather."
"And if he is dead, who is the lord now?"
"The title would naturally descend to his only son, my cousin. I never saw him, but I remember hearing that he was a rather promising boy. There is the bell for luncheon. Remember, children, you are not to mention this subject to any one, not even to Winifred or Lulu. I shall be displeased with you if you do."
Both children promised readily, but all through luncheon they were unusually silent, and when they had gone back to their room, and Mrs. Randall had started out on her afternoon rounds, Jack remarked suddenly, as he was turning over the pages in his English history:
"Now, Betty, you know the kind of lady I want you to be. I don't believe lords' relations ever work; not the lady relations, I mean, of course the men do."
"I don't see any use in being related to people if we don't even know them," said Betty, a little discontentedly. "Anyhow, I don't want to think about it, because if I do I shall forget and tell people, and then mother will be displeased. I don't care anything about lords, but if we could find Uncle Jack, that's what I should like."
"Don't you think mother might write to him some time?" Jack inquired wistfully.