"No, I'm not," answered Roy, laughing. "I don't like Harriet any better than you do. But I like Harry."
"Do you?" she asked eagerly. "Honest? Hope to die?"
"Hope to die," echoed Roy gravely.
"Then you may call me Harry."
"Thanks. Is Doctor Emery your father?"
"Yes. Only they don't call him Doctor Emery—the boys, I mean."
"Don't they? What do they call him?"
"Emmy," answered Harry with a giggle. "It's such a funny name for papa! And mamma they call 'Mrs. Em.'"
"And they call you Harry?" said Roy for want of something better to say. Harry's head went up on the instant and her blue eyes flashed.
"You'd better believe they don't! That is, not many of them. They call me Miss Harry."