when the husband was no longer the husband) to her maiden
name--these were the subjects on which Kitty's desire for enlightenment
applied to the wisest person within her reach, her mother's legal
adviser.

Mr. Sarrazin tried to put her off his knee. She held him round the neck.
He thought of the railway as a promising excuse, and told her he must go
back to London. She held him a little tighter. "I really can't wait, my
dear;" he got up as he said it. Kitty hung on to him with her legs
as well as her arms, and finding the position uncomfortable, lost her
temper. "Mamma's going to have a new name," she shouted, as if the
lawyer had suddenly become deaf. "Grandmamma says she must be Mrs.
Norman. And I must be Miss Norman. I won't! Where's papa? I want to
write to him; I know he won't allow it. Do you hear? Where's papa?"

She fastened her little hands on Mr. Sarrazin's coat collar and tried
to shake him, in a fury of resolution to know what it all meant. At that
critical moment Mrs. Presty opened the door, and stood petrified on the
threshold.

"Hanging on to Mr. Sarrazin with her arms _and_ her legs!" exclaimed the
old lady. "You little wretch, which are you, a monkey or a child?"

The lawyer gently deposited Kitty on the floor.

"Mind this, Samuel," she whispered, as he set her down on her feet, "I
won't be Miss Norman."

Mrs. Presty pointed sternly at the open door. "You were screaming just
now, when quiet in the house is of the utmost importance to your mother.
If I hear you again, bread and water and no doll for the rest of the
week."

Kitty retired in disgrace, and Mrs. Presty sharpened her tongue on Mr.
Sarrazin next. "I'm astonished, sir, at your allowing that impudent
grandchild of mine to take such liberties with you. Who would suppose
that you were a married man, with children of your own?"

"That's just the reason, my dear madam," Mr. Sarrazin smartly replied.
"I romp with my own children--why not with Kitty? Can I do anything
for you in London?" he went on, getting a little nearer to the door; "I
leave Edinburgh by the next train. And I promise you," he added, with
the spirit of mischief twinkling in his eyes, "this shall be my last
confidential interview with your grandchild. When she wants to ask any
more questions, I transfer her to you."

Mrs. Presty looked after the retreating lawyer thoroughly mystified.
What "confidential interview"? What "questions"? After some
consideration, her experience