She drew the boy to her and gave him a little hug, and he did not resist. For a long time she did not answer. He felt vaguely that something of dreadful importance hung about this revelation of her name. He repeated his question, and at length she replied, speaking in a very low voice, and with her eyes fixed intently upon his face.
"My name," she said, "is Ethel Lake."
"Ethel Lake," he repeated after her. The words sounded somehow familiar to him; surely he had heard that name before. Were not the words associated with something in his past that had been unpleasant? A curious sinking sensation came over him as he heard them.
His companion watched him intently while he repeated the words over to himself several times, as if to make sure he had got them right. There was a moment's hesitation as he slowly went over them once again. Then he turned to her, laughing.
"I like your name, Ethel Lake," he said. "It's a nice name—Miss—Miss——" Again he hesitated, while a little warning tremor ran through his mind, and he wondered for an instant why he said "Miss." But it passed as suddenly as it had come, and he finished the sentence—"Miss Lake, I shall call you." He stared into her eyes as he said it.
"Then you don't remember me at all?" she cried, with a sigh of intense relief. "You've quite forgotten?"
"I never saw you before, did I? How can I remember you? I don't remember any of the things I've forgotten. Are you one of them?"
For reply she caught him to her breast and kissed him. "You precious little boy!" she said. "I'm so glad, oh, so glad!"
"But do you remember me?" he asked, sorely puzzled. "Who am I? Haven't I been born yet, or something funny like that?"
"If you don't remember me," said the other, her face happy with smiles that had evidently come only just in time to prevent tears, "there's not much good telling you who you are. But your name, if you really want to know, is——" She hesitated a moment.