"Dear child, what a sweet, pretty name! Now tell me, dearest, where did your people find out that name? I should so like to know." "I think it was found in Shakespeare," Minola answered. "It was my mother's choice, I believe." "A name in the family, no doubt. Some names run in families. I dare say you have had a--what is it?--Minola in your family in every generation. One cannot tell the origin of these things. I have often thought of making a study of family names. Now my name--Laura. There never was a generation of our family--we are the Atomleys--there never was a generation of the Atomleys without a Laura. Now, how curious, in my husband's family--Sir James Limpenny--in every generation one of the girls was always called by the pet name of Chat. Up to the days of the Conquest, I do believe--or is it the Confessor perhaps?--you would find a Chat Limpenny." "There is a Chat Moss somewhere near Manchester," said Lucy saucily, still not forgiving the remark about the time of life. "We crossed it once in a railway." "Oh, but that has nothing to do with it, Lucy darling--nothing at all. I am speaking of girls, you know--girls called by a pet name. I dare say that name was in my husband's family--oh, long before the place you speak of was ever discovered. But now, Miss Grey, do pray excuse me again--such a very charming name--Minola! But pray do excuse me: may I ask is that hair all your own? One is curious, you know, when one sees such wonderful hair." "Yes, Lady Limpenny," Minola said imperturbably. "My hair is all my own." "I should think Nola's hair was all her own indeed," Lucy struck in. "I have seen her doing it a dozen times. Not likely that she would put on false hair." "But, my sweet child, I do assure you that's nothing now," the indomitable Lady Limpenny went on. "Almost everybody wears it now--it's hardly any pretence any more. That's why I asked Miss Grey--because I thought she perhaps wouldn't mind, seeing that we are only women, we here. And it is such wonderful hair--and it is all her own!" "Yes," murmured Lucy, "all her own; and her teeth are her own too; and even her eyes." "She has beautiful eyes indeed. You have, my dear," the good-natured Lady Limpenny went on, having only caught the last part of Lucy's interjected sentence. "But that does not surprise one--at least, I mean, when we see lovely eyes, we don't fancy that the wearer of them has bought them in a shop. But hair is very different--and that is why I took the liberty of asking this young lady. But now, my darling Theresa Money, may I ask again about your husband? Do you know that it was to see him particularly I came to-day--not you. Yes indeed! But you are not angry with me--I know you don't mind. I do so want to have his advice on this very, very important matter." "Lucy, dear, will you ask your papa if he will come down for a few moments--I know he will--to see Lady Limpenny?"