Billy gave a nervous little laugh.
“Isn't that—unusual?” she asked.
Bertram lifted his eyebrows with a quizzical smile.
“Well, they aren't all Marguerite Winthrops,” he reminded her.
“Marguerite!” cried Billy. “Oh, is her name Marguerite? I do think Marguerite is the dearest name!” Billy's eyes and voice were wistful.
“I don't—not the dearest. Oh, it's all well enough, of course, but it can't be compared for a moment to—well, say, 'Billy'!”
Billy smiled, but she shook her head.
“I'm afraid you're not a good judge of names,” she objected.
“Yes, I am; though, for that matter, I should love your name, no matter what it was.”
“Even if 'twas 'Mary Jane,' eh?” bantered Billy. “Well, you'll have a chance to find out how you like that name pretty quick, sir. We're going to have one here.”