Page:While Caroline Was Growing.djvu/344



"J. G. Terwilliger," she answered simply. It was as if one had said "Edward Seventh" or "Adelina Patti" or "P. T. Barnum."

"Who's he?"

"He's my father, for one thing. I suppose you know who he is as well as anybody else."

"I never heard of him," Caroline said carelessly, "are you all ready, now, Mrs. Winterpine?"

"He is the greatest mining expert in the world," the girl declared emphatically, "and I don't know where you've lived not to know it. You—" with a look at the woman, "you know him, of course?"

"I don't know anybody of that name, no," the woman admitted; "but then, you know, we don't know much, 'way off here, about city people."

"There hasn't been a daily paper for ten days that hasn't had his name in it," the girl remarked dryly.

Mrs. Winterpine wiped her face, flanked the ham with the potatoes, assembled an incredible array of sweets and relishes in odd, thick little glass dishes, and with a wave of her hand indicated her guests' places.