Something in his voice gave Edna hope that after all he was not going to desert her, and she came back, and stood with her hand on the iron fireplace, and her eyes fixed on him, as he said: “You spoke of Mr. Belknap. Did he inquire your name?” “No, sir,” was the reply. “Did anybody inquire your name down to the depot?” “No, sir.” “Has Beck asked it?” “No, sir, but I think I told her.” “Thunder you did. Why will women tell all they know, and more too; ten chances though she didn’t understand, she’s so blunderin’. I’ll go and see.” And again Uncle Phil went into the kitchen, and while pretending to drink from the gourd, casually said to the servant: “Ho, Beck, what’s this girl’s name in t’other room; hanged if I want to ask her.” Becky thought a moment and then replied: “don’t jestly remember, though I b’lieve she told me; but I was so flustified when she came. Spects, though, it’s Overton, seein’ she’s yer kin.” “Yes, yes, certainly;” and Uncle Phil went back to the south room with a very satisfied look upon his face. “See here, miss,” he began. “Your name is _Overton_,—LOUISE OVERTON. Do you understand?” Edna looked at him too much surprised to speak, and he continued: “You are my niece, _Miss Overton_, _Louise Overton_, not Browning, nor Churchill, nor Pepper-pod, nor Edna, but Louise Overton. And so I shall introduce you to the folks in Rocky Point.” Edna saw that he meant her to take another name than her own, and she rebelled against it at once. “My name is not Overton,” she said, but he interrupted her with— “It’s _Louise_ though, according to your own statement, Edna Louise.” “I admit that, but it is not Overton, and it would be wrong for me to take that name, and lose my identity.”