“Why–why––” stammered Mr. Hicks. “It was my grandmother’s name–and she was as spry a woman as ever I see.”
“Your grandmother’s name!” gasped Mercy. “Then, what right had you to give it to your niece? And when she way a helpless baby, too! Wasn’t she good enough to have a name of her own–and one a little more modern?”
“Miss, you stump me–you sure do!” declared Mr. Hicks, with a sigh. “I never thought a gal cared so much for them sort o’ things. They’re surprisin’ different from boys; ain’t they?”
“Hope you haven’t found it out too late, Mister Wild and Woolly,” said Mercy, biting her speech off in her sharp way. “You had better take a fashion magazine and buy Nita–or whatever she wants to call herself–clothes and hats like other girls wear. Maybe you’ll be able to keep her on a ranch, then.”
“Wal, Miss! I’m bound to believe you’ve got the rights of it. I ain’t never had much knowledge of women-folks, and that’s a fact––”
He was interrupted by the maid coming to the door. “There’s a boy here, Miss Kate,” she said, “who is asking for the gentleman.”
“Asking for the gentleman?” repeated Miss Kate.
“Yes, ma’am. The gentleman who has just came. The gentleman from the West.”
“Axing for me?” cried the ranchman, getting up quickly.
“It must be for you, sir,” said Aunt Kate. “Let the boy come in, Sally.”