"What is your name?"
"Meg."
"Meg what?"
"Browne," said Meg.
"No, that is not your name. Beecham is your name. Don't forget—Beecham."
"Beecham?" repeated Meg, amazed.
"Take off your hat!" said her interlocutor.
Meg lifted her left hand to obey, but the elastic caught in her hair, and she put her precious parcel down to free her right hand.
"You were to take nothing out of that house," said the old gentleman sternly.
"I won't give them up—I won't!" cried Meg with kindling countenance, and with hands outstretched to protect her parcel.