"'Please!' Ain't that wonderful?" commented Martha. "Why, you make him have manners!"
An hour or two later, Mrs. Marshall came into the nursery to see the little girl whom her son had insisted on having as his guest. Martha was serving refreshments—animal crackers and cambric tea.
"Anne has to go at five o'clock," Dunlop explained. "It's nearly that now. So we're having a party."
"Anne—what is the rest of your name, little one?" asked Mrs. Marshall.
"I know. Let me tell," exclaimed Dunlop. "She's named Anne Lewis and she lived in a big white house on a hill by the river at—at—you tell where, Anne."
"'Lewis Hall,'" said Anne.
"You are a Lewis of 'Lewis Hall!'" exclaimed Mrs. Marshall. "Is it possible? Was your father—could he have been—Will Watkins Lewis? He was such a dear friend of my Bland cousins. I remember seeing him at 'Belle Vue' when I was a girl. I never saw him after he married and settled down at his old home. Let's see. Your mother was a Mayo, wasn't she?"
"I am named for her. Anne Mayo Lewis."
"To think you are Will Watkins Lewis's child! He is dead?—and your mother?"
"I can't hardly remember him. But I can shut my eyes and see mother. I was a big girl—seven when she died."