"Papa, you certainly do know it all," said Patty. "I haven't any words by me just now, long enough to answer you with, but I quite agree with you in spirit." "That's all very well," said Frank, "for a modern, twentieth-century explanation, but the real root of the matter goes far back into the obscure ages of antiquity. The whole habit is a relic of barbarism. Probably, in the early ages, only the great had cups to drink from. These few, to protect themselves from their envious and covetous brethren, stuck out their little fingers to ward off possible assaults upon their porcelain property. This ingrained impulse the ages have been unable to eradicate. Hence we find the Little Finger Crooks upon the earth to-day." "What an ingenious boy you are," said Patty, looking at her cousin with mock admiration. "How did you ever think of all that?" "That isn't ingenuity, miss, it's historic research, and you'll probably find that Florence Douglass can trace her ancestry right back to the aforesaid barbarians." "I suppose most of us are descended from primitive people," said Marian. And then the entrance of Elsie Morris and her brother Guy put an end to the discussion of little fingers. "I'm so glad to see you," said Patty, welcoming her callers. "Come right into the library, you are our first real guests." "Then I think we ought to have the Prize for Promptness," said Elsie, as she took off her wraps. "But don't you count Frank and Marian?" "Not as guests," replied Patty; "they're relatives, and you know your relatives--" "Are like the poor," interrupted Frank, "because they're always with you." "Then, we are really your first callers?" said Guy Morris. "No, not quite," said Patty, laughing. "I spoke too hastily when I said that, and forgot entirely a very distinguished personage who visited me this morning." "Who was it?" "My next-door neighbour, Miss Daggett." "What! Not Locky Ann Daggett!" exclaimed Elsie, laughing merrily. "It was Miss Rachel Daggett. I don't know why you call her by that queer name," said Patty. "Oh, I've known her ever since I was a baby, and mother always calls her Locky Ann Daggett, and grandmother did before her. You know Locky is a nickname for Rachel." "I didn't know it," said Patty. "What an absurd nickname." "Yes, isn't it? How did you like her?" "It isn't a question of liking," answered Patty. "She doesn't want me to like her. All she seemed to care about was to have me promise not to interfere with her." "Oh, she's afraid of you," said Guy. "You don't seem so very terrifying, now, but I suppose when you're engaged in the housekeeping of your house you're an imposing and awe-inspiring sight." "I dare say I am," said Patty; "but my neighbour, Miss Daggett, I'm sure, would be imposing at any hour of the day or night." "She's a queer character," said Elsie. "Have you never seen her before?" "No; I never even heard of her until she sent up her card."