Otis

When Mr. Hiram B. Otis bought Canterville Chase, every one told him he was doing a very foolish thing, as there was no doubt at all that the place was haunted.

Miss Virginia E. Otis was a little girl of fifteen, lithe and lovely as a fawn.

Mr. Otis was awakened by a curious noise in the corridor, outside his room. It sounded like the clank of metal, and seemed to be coming nearer every moment.

[…] in a world of mandatory diminutives, a corporation of jolly Bills and Jacks and Herbs and Teds in which an unabbreviable given name like Earl must have been a minor handicap, "Oat" was the best that could be done for a man with the given name of Otis.