I don't know. Many as I want to make up. I'm playing a story now
while I wash dishes--this is my dining-room week. I pretend that a funny
little dwarf climbed the beanstalk with Jack--and when the giant tumbled
down he stayed up there in the giant's castle. Do you want to hear that
story?"

"You bet! Tell on," said Dunlop--and then added, as an afterthought,
"please."

"'Please!' Ain't that wonderful?" commented Martha. "Why, you make him
have manners!"

An hour or two later, Mrs. Marshall came into the nursery to see the
little girl whom her son had insisted on having as his guest. Martha was
serving refreshments--animal crackers and cambric tea.

"Anne has to go at five o'clock," Dunlop explained. "It's nearly that
now. So we're having a party."

"Anne--what is the rest of your name, little one?" asked Mrs. Marshall.

"I know. Let me tell," exclaimed Dunlop. "She's named Anne Lewis and she
lived in a big white house on a hill by the river at--at--you tell
where, Anne."

"'Lewis Hall,'" said Anne.

"You are a Lewis of 'Lewis Hall!'" exclaimed Mrs. Marshall. "Is it
possible? Was your father--could he have been--Will Watkins Lewis? He
was such a dear friend of my Bland cousins. I remember seeing him at
'Belle Vue' when I was a girl. I never saw him after he married and
settled down at his old home. Let's see. Your mother was a Mayo, wasn't
she?"

"I am named for her. Anne Mayo Lewis."

"To think you are Will Watkins Lewis's child! He is dead?--and your
mother?"

"I can't hardly remember him. But I can shut my eyes and see mother. I
was a big girl--seven when she died."

"You poor little thing! And where have you been since?"

"In New York with Uncle Carey. He's mother's brother. Then I was in
Paris at school. Mr. Patterson brought me back to Virginia. I've been
here ever since."

"Dear, dear! Will Watkins Lewis's child!" repeated Mrs. Marshall. "Where
are all your kins-people and friends?"

"I don't know 'bout kinfolks. But I have lots and lots of friends," said
Anne, brightening. "All the girls--and the cook--and the 'spress
man--and there used to be Miss Drayton and Pat. And there's always
Honey-Sweet," continued Anne, giving her doll a hug. "Oh, I must hurry!
It's beginning to strike five--and Miss Farlow said five o'clock
pre-cise-ly. Good-by. And thank you."

CHAPTER XVII

That Saturday afternoon was the first of many that Anne spent at the
brown-stone house next door. The 'Roseland'