"Who does not know His Grace of Wessex?" she responded, making a pretty curtsy.
"Then let me be even with you, sweet singer, and tell me your name."
Ursula darted a sudden shy look at him. Obviously he was conveying the truth; he did not know who she was.
A quick thought crossed her mind; she looked demurely down her nose and said placidly,—
"My name is Fanny."
"Fanny?"
"Yes . . . you do not like it?"
"I didn't before," he said with a smile, "but now I adore it."
"I am getting to like it better too," she added thoughtfully.
"But, sweet Fanny, tell me how is it I never have seen you before."