"Well, Miss Thorne, I'm sure I'd call you anything to please you. Only I didn't know whether you'd like it from me. Else I do think Mary is the prettiest name in all the language."
"I should like it very much."
"My dear Roger always loved that name better than any other; ten times better. I used to wish sometimes that I'd been called Mary."
"Did he! Why?"
"He once had a sister called Mary; such a beautiful creature! I declare I sometimes think you are like her."
"Oh, dear! then she must have been beautiful indeed!" said Mary, laughing.
"She was very beautiful. I just remember her—oh, so beautiful! she was quite a poor girl, you know; and so was I then. Isn't it odd that I should have to be called 'my lady' now? Do you know Miss Thorne—"
"Mary! Mary!" said her guest.
"Ah, yes; but somehow, I hardly like to make so free; but, as I was saying, I do so dislike being called 'my lady:' I always think the people are laughing at me; and so they are."
"Oh, nonsense."