"Eleanor Kathleen Carson," repeated Margaret when her excitement had calmed somewhat.
"It's a lovely name, though, of course, it ought by rights to have been Eleanor Humphreys. I know now the reason why I liked you so much the moment I saw you."
"Not the first moment," said Eleanor, with twinkling eyes. "You thought me horrid the first moment you saw me, and scuttled from the room as hard as you could."
"No, I liked you from the first," Margaret repeated firmly. "Only I was shy. It was very stupid of me," she added, partly to herself, "to be shy of you when your name was Eleanor all the time."
"And who is this Eleanor of whom you appear so fond?" demanded Miss Carson. "To begin with, you tell me that I am the very first girl you have ever spoken to, and then that you have a friend called Eleanor. Pray explain the discrepancy in these statements."
But Margaret, looking at the laughing light in the curious red-brown eyes bent upon her, shook her head.
"I believe you would laugh at the other Eleanor," she said, "so I don't think I shall tell you. But I will tell you my name. It is Margaret Anstruther."
"And where do you live, Margaret Anstruther?"
"At Clayton, in Flatshire, with my grandfather."
"And have you any brothers and sisters, Margaret Anstruther?"