Mr. Underhill came for his little girl. While he was exchanging a few words with Mr. Dean Hanny caught one hand in both of hers and hopped around on one foot. She was so glad she could do it. Poor Daisy, with her beautiful name, who could never know the delight of exuberant spirits.
Hanny's thoughts did not take in the long word, but that was what she felt in every fibre of her being.
Charles wondered how she dared. He was frightened when he caught his father's hand with an impulse of gratitude. But in pure fun!
There was quite a stir with the little clique in the upper end of the block. Mrs. Underhill, Mrs. Dean, and Margaret called on their neighbor, and the wheeled chair came up the street a day or two after. It had to go to the corner and cross on the flagging, as the jar would have been too great on cobble stones. They had a young colored lad now who kept the garden in order, did chores, and waited upon "Missy" as he called her.
The sidewalk was generally sunny in the afternoon, but this day it was soft and gray without being very cloudy. The chariot halted at the Underhills'. The little girls brought their dolls to show Daisy, their very best ones, and Nora dressed up Pussy Gray in the long white baby dress, and pussy was very obliging and lay in Daisy's arms just like a real baby. The child felt as if she wanted to kiss him.
What a pretty group of gossips they were! If Kate Greenaway had been making pictures then, she would have wanted them, though their attire was not quite as quaint as hers. They went up and down the steps, they told Daisy so many bright, entertaining things, and the fun they had with their plays. Josie's party was described, the closing exercises at school, and the many incidents so important in child life. Sometimes two or three talked together, or some one said, "It's my turn, now let me." They referred to Charles so much it really piqued Daisy's curiosity.
"Jim calls him a 'girl-boy,' because he plays with us," said Hanny, "and in some ways I like girl-boys best. Ben is a sort of girl-boy. I'm going to bring him over to see you. Jim's real splendid and none of the boys dare fight him any more," she added loyally.
"And first, you know," began Tudie in a mysteriously confidential manner, "we thought it so queer and funny. His mother called him John Robert Charles. And she used to look out of the window and ask him if he had his books and his handkerchief, and tell him to come straight home from school, and lots of things. Oh, we thought we wouldn't have her for our mother, not for a world!"
"How did he come by so many names?" Daisy smiled.
"Well, grandfather and all," replied Tudie rather ambiguously. "His father calls him Charles. It sounds quite grand, doesn't it? We all wanted to call him Robert. And Hanny's big sister sings such a lovely song—"Robin Adair." I'd like to call him that."