Uncle Zacheus was at first too astonished to speak and stared open-mouthed at the girl whose blue eyes fascinated and confused him, they were so bright and large and clear, and seemed to take in everything at once within their vision. His wife, who had stopped to slip on a clean white apron and smooth her hair before going to receive her guests, now appeared on the scene, and, at sight of her, Uncle Zach recovered his speech so far as to give vent to his usual ejaculation. “Wall, I’ll be dumbed! Yes, I will!” he said, advancing toward Fanny and offering his hand. For an instant she drew back. She had not expected what she found. Everything was so different from her life that it was hard to associate her father with this place and this queer little man making so free with her. A look from Roy reassured her and she gave her hand to Mr. Taylor, who nearly crushed it before he let go his hold. Roy was explaining now and talking to Mrs. Taylor, who remembered him having been there with his father and mother, and finally succeeded in conveying that fact to her husband’s rather hazy mind. “Don’t I remember them young folks who was here a few years ago? Wall, I guess I do, and this is their boy and girl? I don’t understand it,” he said; then, as it began to dawn upon him more clearly, he continued, addressing himself to Fanny, “I know now; you are Mark’s girl, but you don’t look like him, unless it’s some trick with your eyes,—nor like your mother, neither. Who are you like, I wonder?” He was scanning her very closely, and without at all considering what she was saying, Fanny answered him: “Perhaps I am like father’s great-grandmother, ’Tina. Did you ever see her?” “Bless my soul, child; how old do you take me to be?” and Uncle Zach burst into a hearty laugh. “I’m only eighty-three, and Miss Dalton,—that’s ’Tina,—has been dead a hundred and twenty years; but I believe you _are_ like her. They say she was han’som’ as a picter, with blue eyes and yaller hair and clingin’ ways.” Fanny was not particularly pleased to have her resemblance to ’Tina discussed, and Roy, who wished to change the conversation, said abruptly, “Can we go into the office where Mr. Hilton used to spend his time?” “Certainly, and all over the house, too,” Mr. Taylor replied, leading the way to the office, where Fanny examined everything and sat in every chair and looked over the register of years ago which was brought out for her to see.