"You're like your mother. She was just such another Church-goer," said the Colonel, as if remarking on an idiosyncrasy of character.
Dorothea could be interested now. She felt relieved and free. "Was my mother like me in other ways?"
"Pretty well. Pretty well," said the Colonel, wiping his moustache.
"Did she know the Erskines?" This question came suddenly, almost surprising Dorothea herself.
"Well—yes. She and Mrs. Erskine were great friends—at one time."
"But not after you and Colonel Erskine quarrelled?"
"Well, not after our—little difference. No, we didn't keep up intercourse. What makes you bother about the Erskines?"
"I don't know. I like to think about them? Do tell me one thing, father,—are there any Erskine girls?"
"I'm sure I don't know. There was one, of course," said Colonel Tracy, getting up. "Done, my dear? For I have to be off. Why, of course! Same name, both of you."
"Dorothea?"