"I think it would be more appropriate for you to call me 'Uncle
Anson.'"

"Uncle Anson! Why, Uncle Anson is--is--"

She paused, utterly bewildered, but with a sudden suspicion that made
her head whirl.

"It strikes me, Myrtle," said Uncle John, cheerfully, "that you have
never been properly introduced to Mr. Jones. If I remember aright you
scraped acquaintance with him and had no regular introduction. So I
will now perform that agreeable office. Miss Myrtle Dean, allow me to
present your uncle, Mr. Collanson B. Jones."

"Collanson!" repeated all the girls, in an astonished chorus.

"That is my name," said Mr. Jones, the first smile they had seen
radiating his grim countenance. "All the folks at home, among them my
sister Kitty--your mother, my dear--called me 'Anson'; and that is
why, I suppose, old Martha Dean knew me only as your 'Uncle Anson.'
Had she told you my name was Collanson you might have suspected
earlier that 'C.B. Jones' was your lost uncle. Lost only because he
was unable to find you, Myrtle. While you were journeying West in
search of him he was journeying East. But I'm glad, for many reasons,
that you did not know me. It gave me an opportunity to learn the
sweetness of your character. Now I sincerely thank God that He led you
to me, to reclaim me and give me something to live for. If you will
permit me, my dear niece, I will hereafter devote my whole life to
you, and earnestly try to promote your happiness."