The person in question was Arabella, who had just re-entered.
“Society?” said she. “My word, yes, I shall want you to tell me all about society, Miriam.”
“Do you hear that, Miriam?” said Mr. Teesdale after some moments. She had taken no notice.
“What's that? Oh yes, I heard; but I shan't tell anybody anything more unless you all stop calling me Miriam.”
This surprised them; it had the air of a sudden thought as suddenly spoken.
“But Miriam's your name,” said Arabella, laughing.
“Your father has never spoken of you as anything else,” remarked Mr. Teesdale.
“All the same, I'm not used to being called by it,” replied their visitor, who for the first time was exhibiting signs of confusion. “I like people to call me what I'm accustomed to being called. You may say it's a pet name, but it's what I'm used to, and I like it best.”
“What is, missy?” said old Teesdale kindly; for the girl was staring absently at the opposite wall.
“Tell us, and we'll call you nothing else,” Arabella promised.