“This poor fellow will never be keen after anything,” said Dr. May. “I pity him! Existence seems hard work to him!”
“We shall have baby calling him ‘the detestable’ next,” said Ethel. “What a famous set down she gave him.”
“She is a thorough lady, and allows no liberties,” said Dr. May.
“Ah!” said Margaret, “it is a proof of what I want to impression you. We really must leave off calling her Daisy when strangers are there.”
“It is so much nicer,” pleaded Mary.
“The very reason,” said Margaret, “fondling names should be kept for our innermost selves, not spread abroad, and made common. I remember when I used to be called Peg-top—and Flora, Flossy—we were never allowed to use the names when any visitor was near; and we were asked if we could not be as fond of each other by our proper names. I think it was felt that there was a want of reserve in publishing our pet words to other people.”
“Quite true,” said Dr. May; “baby-names never ought to go beyond home. It is the fashion to use them now; and, besides the folly, it seems, to me, an absolute injury to a girl, to let her grow up, with a nickname attached to her.”
“Ay!” chimed in Norman, “I hear men talking of Henny, and Loo, and the like; and you can’t think how glad I have been that my sisters could not be known by any absurd word!”
“It is a case where self-respect would make others behave properly,” said Flora.
“True,” said Dr. May; “but if girls won’t keep up their own dignity, their friends’ duty is to do it for them. The mischief is in the intimate friends, who blazon the words to every one.”