"My name," she said, "is Rose Mary Catherine Maude Caversham," or some such name.
"Oh!" exclaimed the lady in black, opening her lips for the first time, and speaking sharply. "You must not say all those names! It is enough to say your name is Rose."
The child turned and looked at her, studying her face, and then with heightened colour and with something like indignation in her tone, she replied: "That is my name! Why should I not tell it when I am asked?"
The lady said nothing, and the child turned her face to me again.
I said it was a very pretty name and I had been pleased to hear it, and glad she told it to me without leaving anything out.
Silence still on the part of the lady.
"I think," I resumed, "that you are a rather wonderful child;—have they taught you the ABC?"
"Oh no, they don't teach me things like that—I pick all that up."
"And one and one make two—do you pick that up as well?"
"Yes, I pick that up as well."