"Do you live here?" she asked.
"No, we are spending the winter here, mother and I."
"Your mother and you—" the questioner repeated.
"Yes, while father is away; he has gone to Honolulu. We stopped here because mother was ill, and then the Eastern Review wanted father to go to Hawaii, so we thought we'd just stay. We have a flat at the Spectacle Man's—I mean Mr. Clark's—and it is very nice."
"Is it?" The stranger's eyes travelled over the dainty figure. "You will think I am asking a great many questions, but where did you get your name?" she added.
"It was my great-grandmother's. Mother wanted to put Chauncey in. That is father's name, John Chauncey Morrison. Perhaps you have read his stories." Again Frances saw that strange expression in the face before her.
"Do you know who I am?" the lady asked.
"I suppose you are Mrs. Marvin. Emma said you had not come home yet, but that you were coming very soon, and when I saw you I knew who it must be, and— I hope you'll excuse me," she added, remembering she had offered no apology.
Emma and Zenobia, who had been standing in the door for several minutes, now succeeded in catching Frances' eye. "I must go," she said, "they are waiting for me."
Mrs. Marvin glanced in their direction. "Will you come to see me again?" she asked.