Rebecca was born under the surname of her father, who was married to her mother, but always was she addressed "Asa. Hi Rebecca!" (except in America, where she was Well met with the sweetness of Honey). Her father ascended to the penta-ultimate peak at, oh, mmmM 42, when viewed through the prismatic eye of the beholder, but alas, he was bombarded by cannon and pierced by bayonets and chased by a Minoltaur, and no Kin came to his rescue.
In decline for some years thereafter her father, tragically, died.
Her mother Sparked, then married a firm but kindly man, a Hoy, who not only supported Rebecca, but adopted her and her younger siblings and made them his own - but as she was the eldest daughter, he invested little in her further education and preparation for future life (though he has paid considerably for her younger siblings).
My family having been acquainted with her's for several generations (and I with my eye always upon her mount), I courted ("Oh, Ric," she sighed) and married Rebecca, though she had but a trifling dowry, and I paid but a pittance for her most comfortable hand. Together we form a new and colorful union, at once the same as and as yet different from both of our histories.
Now taking my surname, through all these changes of name and filial association Rebecca has remained Rebecca, unique, determined, humble, at times insightful and at times confoundingly misguided, capable of brilliance at any moment yet seemingly unable to complete the journey, but always and forever Rebecca.
Give it a rest.
[EDIT:] My fine fellow THoog messages me his fond felicitations and asks how it can be that, though she be a (frankly) fair and lovely lady, she has not in her maturity developed a fuller frame.