satisfied to have it so.

"I'm certainly no Pritchard," returned Elsie coolly, and not without
enjoyment, "begging your pardon, Cousin Julia."

"Well, of course, I ought to regret it, you being the last of the
family; but I'm afraid I don't," returned Miss Pritchard. "You see I
rather dreaded your coming as that of a double-dyed Pritchard. The
Pritchards of my father's generation were pretty stiff, I confess,
heavy and solemn and rather pompous. My mother who was a Moore, as no
doubt you have heard, had a strong sense of humor, and didn't bring me
up in very great awe of the family. She was thankful I didn't take
after them, and so have I always been. I often think, what a
misfortune had I had to have a Pritchard as a bedfellow and roommate
all these years, as I must have had if I had taken after my father--who
was, I believe, however, the mildest of the Pritchards, and very much
altered by my mother's influence. And girls are usually like papa--as
you are--and boys like mamma, they say. Surely, no girl could be less
like her mother than you, dear."

Elsie sobered. One of the facts she most cherished was the knowledge
that she resembled her adored mother in nature as well as in manner and
personal appearance. It would be hard, nay, impossible, to give over
that solace. But she told herself she must think _Augusta Pritchard_
(what a name!) whenever Cousin Julia said _mother_ to her.

"Of course, you don't remember your father, Elsie, but do you remember
any other of the Marleys or know anything of them?"

"Just one member of the family," said Elsie, getting down from the
window-seat. "I've heard about her ever since I can remember." And
bowing low, she began to sing:

"Do you ken Elsie Marley, honey?
The wife who sells the barley, honey?
She won't get up to serve her swine,
And do you ken Elsie Marley, honey?

Elsie Marley has grown so fine
She won't get up to serve the swine,
But lies in bed till eight or nine,
And surely she does take her time.

Do you ken Elsie Marley, honey?
The wife who sells the barley, honey?
She won't get up to serve her swine,
And do you ken Elsie Marley, honey?"

The wonder and admiration in Miss Pritchard's eyes couldn't be hidden.
Elsie threw herself down on the settee by her side.

"That's the only Marley I've ever known, Cousin Julia, but she's rather
a dear old body," she said and squeezed Miss Pritchard's arm
affectionately.

C