“No doubt they are charming, my dear granddaughter. But you must remember that you have now come into an important position. Much will be expected of you. You will probably wed a Ravanel. Many of the women of my family did. My son David did also, as you know. It is a custom with us I may say. Yes, a Ravanel or a Grévy.” “But, dearest grandmother, I must marry the person I love. What will his last name have to do with it?” “Everything, my dear child. Kindly fetch me yonder book.” “Yonder book,” Carin, was very much done up in an embroidered cover and was lying on grandmother’s far cabinet. I wish you could see her cabinet of fans. Some are quite historic and all are exquisite. I brought the book and it proved to be a genealogy of the Bryce family. (Bryce was grandmother’s maiden name.) We studied this for at least an hour, and then grandmother called Martha to carry it to my room that I might have it at hand to consult whenever I wished. “You will see,” she said, “that the Bryce ladies have married Ravanels, Grévys or Knoxes from time immemorial. You are a Knox. You will marry a Bryce, a Ravanel or a Grévy.” I tried not to laugh, but to save my life I couldn’t help it. “Perhaps none of them will approve of me. Remember, madam grandmother, I am only a homespun mountain maid.” “Ah, but we will transform you into a shining princess,” cried my grandmother excitedly. “I already have had that matter in mind.” Then she clapped her jeweled old hands together as hard as she could, and when Martha came running, gasping: “Yessum, ole Miss, yessum, ole Miss,” grandmother said, like a potentate in the Arabian Nights: “Have the chests brought.” Then I remembered what Aunt Lorena had told me about the chests in which grandmother kept her old treasures. So I was to see these darling old brocades and crepes and embroideries! Aunt Lorena thought it would be a dreadful thing to have to dress in them, but I was wild to do it. It seemed a part of all the strange play that my life had become. So presently two of the men servants came staggering in under the weight of a great chest, and when they had set that down they went back for another, and then for another yet. I wouldn’t have the chests opened till I had looked all over the outside of them. One was covered with carmine leather all tooled with gilt, and it had a great clasp with cupids on it. Another was of dark carved wood, very heavy, and lined with sandalwood that filled the whole room with an old, dry perfume when it was opened. The other was a sea chest with a sailor’s name carved on it. “‘Samuel Bings,’” said I. “What a funny name.” My grandmother frowned. “I see nothing funny about it,” she said. “Samuel Bings was a very distinguished and unfortunate man.” “Oh, I should love to hear his story some time,” I said contritely.