"Burns, come in to dinner," said the voice of Mrs. Marks, addressing me from the arched doorway. I obeyed, and, for some unexplained reason, was consigned to my room during the rest of the day, which I spent by the window, still watching for my friend with a patient persistent hope that would not be conquered. I was so absorbed that I never heard Mrs. Marks enter, until she said, close behind me, "Burns, what are you always looking out of that window for?" Before I could reply, a sharp voice inquired from the corridor: "Mrs. Marks, who is it I have twice this day heard you addressing by the extraordinary name of Burns?" We both looked round. Mrs. Marks had left my door open; exactly opposite it stood a ladder leading to a trap-door in the roof of the house, through which Mr. Thornton, who had gone to survey the progress of an observatory he was causing to be erected there, now appeared descending. "That child won't tell her other name, Sir," replied Mrs. Marks, reddening. "Do you know it?" "She won't tell it, Sir." My grandfather fastened his keen black eyes full on me, and signed me to approach. He stood on the last step of the ladder. I went up to him; he gave my head a quick survey, then suddenly fixed the tip of his forefinger somewhere towards the summit, and exclaimed, in a tone that showed he had settled the bump and the question: "Firmness large; secretiveness too; but good moral and intellectual development. What is your name?" "Margaret," I replied, unhesitatingly. Margaret had been my mother's name. Mr. Thornton turned away at once. "Margaret, go back to your room," shortly said Mrs. Marks. Mr. Thornton was descending the staircase. He stopped to turn round, and observed, with great emphasis, "Miss Margaret, will you please to go back to your room?" He went down without uttering another word. Mrs. Marks became scarlet; and, declaring that she was not going to Miss Margaret any one, she retired to her own apartment in high dudgeon. I thought to spend this autumn evening, as usual, in the companionship of lamp, fire, books, and toys; but scarcely had Mrs. Marks brought me my light, and retired again, when Miss Grainger entered.