Rebecca's thick lips moved greedily. "I'll tell you all I know, miss, but I ain't got no more memory nor a badger. She was a German an' her hair was so light it was mos' white. She was pretty, too, and w'en her husban' used to stay out late she'd cry an' talk, but I never heard what she said; but I knew she was good, an' if she cried he mus' be bad."
"Have you told Mrs. Mercer this?"
"Law, no. I asked her what her name was before marriage, an' she said somethin' different. Lan—Lan—"
"Lancaster?"
"That's it; now the name of my folkses was different. Jones or James or some such, so it ain't the same 'ceptin' her mother had a sister, an' she says she hadn't."
"Probably it is a case of casual resemblance."
"Prob'ly, miss."
"I don't think Mrs. Mercer's mother was a German."
"Yes she were, miss, she tole me."
"Indeed—oh, well, it is a coincidence, you had better stop pondering over it."