"And what would you call her?" asked Aveline, with some curiosity.
Mr. Haveloc, hesitated a little, and then said, "the Pearl."
"And I am very fond of pearls," said Aveline. "How many things there are, Mr. Haveloc, the very names of which recalls much that is beautiful in poetry to one's memory. The Pearl, the violet, the lark."
"True enough," said Mr. Haveloc, "a robin is a prettier bird, but he has not been so much be-rhymed. A pistol is a handier weapon than a sword, but it would make a sorry figure in a lyric."
"And a grand pianoforte," said Aveline, laughing, "will never be appreciated with tears and moonlight, like a lute."
"And a rascally pirate will be hung in chains, to the great delight of all sober people, while a horse Viking, or even a Spanish buccaneer, would be exalted in ballad, or blank verse."
"Allow," said Aveline, "that people cannot live well, who live only in the present time."
"And that people cannot live wisely, who live in the past or the future," said Mr. Haveloc.
"I do not know whether it is too serious an allusion," said Aveline; "but I cannot help recollecting that 'the children of this world are wiser in their generation, than the children of light.'"
Mr. Haveloc remained silent for some moments. "I wonder what that means exactly," said he, at last.