"Why not?" said Mrs. Dawes, much surprised. "You thought them so pretty when we bought them, in Italy."
"Yes—but what I don't think suits me any longer is the name."
"The name?"
Both looked up.
"I feel exactly as if it were no longer mine."
"Marit does not suit you?" said Mrs. Dawes.
Her father added gently: "It was your mother's name."
Marit did not answer at once; she felt the dismay in her father's eyes.
"What do you wish to be called, then, child?" It was again Mrs. Dawes who spoke.
"Mary."