"Oh, oh!" exclaimed Seth. "He knows my new title already."
"Spirits know everythink," observed Sally oracularly. "Then Pharer takes me downstairs. And it's night, and there's more than one candle alight; and the fish in the quarian is swimming about, wide awake, salamanders and all; and there's a party."
Seth gave a long, soft whistle. "That's a mistake, Sally. There couldn't be a party."
"There was," said Sally positively.
"Men and women?"
"No; boys and gals."
"Ah, ah! That's bad enough, but it's better than t'other."
"There was Jane Preedy, and Betsy Newbiggin, and Ann Taylor, and Jimmy Platt, and a lot more, all dressed out; and there was baby dressed out splendider than all of 'em put together, and there was me, and you."
"What was I doing?"
"You was giving baby a name. 'And mind,' says Pharer, baby's a little lady, and she's got to have a grand name, better than mine, or your'n, or anybody else's.'"