"Thank you, madam," was the grateful reply. "We are hungry, and shall be much indebted to your kindness."
It was rather a novel situation for Miss Hetty, sitting at the head of the table, dispensing food to others beside herself. There was something rather agreeable about it.
"Will you have some of the dressing, little girl—I have to call you that, for I don't know your name," she added, in an inquiring tone.
"Her name is Henrietta, but I generally call her Hetty," said the traveller.
"What!" said Miss Hetty, dropping the spoon in surprise.
"She was named after a very dear friend of mine," said he, sighing.
"May I ask," said Miss Hetty, with excusable curiosity, "what was the name of this friend. I begin to feel quite an interest in your little girl," she added, half apologetically.
"Her name was Henrietta Henderson," said the stranger.
"Why, that is my name," ejaculated Miss Hetty.
"And she was named after you," said the stranger, composedly.