there wasn't half so much reason why she should be called Nichols as
there was why Anna should, for that was her father's name, the one by
which he was baptized, the same day with Nancy Scovandyke, who's jest
his age, only he was born about a quarter past four in the morning,
and she not till some time in the afternoon!"

"But where is Mr. Rivers?" asked Anna more interested in him than in
the exact minute of her father's birth.

"The Lord only knows," returned Mrs. Nichols. "Little girls
shouldn't ask too many questions."

This silenced Anna, and satisfied her that there was some mystery
connected with 'Lena. The mention of Nancy Scovandyke reminded Mrs.
Nichols of the dishes which that lady had packed away, and anxious to
see if they were safe, she turned to 'Lena saying, "I guess we'll
have time before dinner to unpack my trunks, for I want to know how
the crockery stood the racket. Anny, you run down and tell your pa
to fetch 'em up here, that's a good girl."

In her eagerness to know what those weather-beaten boxes contained,
Anna forgot her scheme of dressing 'Lena, and ran down, not to call
her father, but the black boy, Adam. It took her a long time to find
him, and Mrs. Nichols, growing impatient, determined to go herself,
spite of 'Lena's entreaties that she would stay where she was.
Passing down the long stairway, and out upon the piazza, she espied a
negro girl on her hands and knees engaged in cleaning the steps with
a cloth. Instantly remembering her mop, she greatly lamented that
she had left it behind--"'twould come so handy now," thought she, but
there was no help for it.