"This lady with the pink gown was my great aunt Nora, and that man in
the yellow waistcoat was my great uncle Nathan.

"That lady in green velvet was my great aunt Nina, and that young girl
beside her was her daughter, Arline.

"That little old lady in velvet and lace was my great grandmother, and
the next picture was my own grandma, and I've forgotten who that next
one is, but the next lady's name was Jemima, and the one in yellow
silk was Elvira, and the one in pink muslin was Honoriah, and the next
one,--oh, let me think. What _was_ her name? Oh, I know, it was
Anastasia."

"Why, their names grow worse, and worse the farther you go down the
hall!" cried Sprite.

"Why no they don't," said Gwen, "for over on this wall, the first
picture, this one of the lady with the dog is called Lucretia, and
that next one's name was Abagail."

"Well, their gowns are lovely," said Sprite, "but didn't they use to
have just horrid names?"

"My mamma says those names are 'quaint,'" Gwen replied, "but come and
see this portrait of a little girl. Guess who that is?"

"Oh, how could I?" said Sprite, "I've never known your people."

Gwen moved along until she stood close beside her, then she looked
straight into Sprite Seaford's eyes, and nodding as she spoke, and