"I don't want you ever to tell that to anybody. I am not a Missourian. I am a Washingtonian."
"Maria," said Mrs. Pennybacker, firmly, "you are a Missourian. It is too late now for you to select a birthplace. If you ever get into Statuary Hall (which I somewhat doubt) you will have to be written down from 'Possum Kingdom,' for there you were born."
Mrs. Van Dorn contented herself with a sniff.
"Anyway," continued Mrs. Pennybacker, argumentatively, "I don't see why one wouldn't rather have been born in a great sovereign state like Missouri—an empire in itself—than in a little two by four asparagus bed set like a patch on top of two other states, and not set straight at that. I never had any opinion of people who are ashamed of their native state, even if that was a state of poverty, and yours was a State of affluence."
"If you call calico and ten-cent lawn affluence—" began Mrs. Van Dorn.
"I was speaking of the commonwealth, Maria," Mrs. Pennybacker explained, with suspicious mildness, "a State of affluence written with a capital."
"I never even let Richard De Jarnette know I was from Missouri all the time he was coming to see me. I told him my mother was a Virginian, which was the truth. And that I was a Washingtonian."
"Which was—?"
"Oh, I suppose so.... And I have never let one soul know, Aunt Mary, where you are from."
Mrs. Pennybacker faced her. "You haven't! Well, if I were not going home to-morrow I should make a point of telling every acquaintance you have. Do you think I am ashamed of Missouri? I should as soon think of disowning the mother that bore me. Why should you hesitate to tell Mr. De Jarnette where you were from?"