When they had settled the style of the trimming to their mutual satisfaction, and had then worked in silence for some time, Drusilla looked up and said:
“I wonder if dear General Lyon will like to have me name my poor discarded little baby after him?”
“Of course he will. It will be a compliment paid to him—though a well-merited one to him,” replied Anna.
“No, dear, it will not be a compliment paid to him, but a favor asked by me, and my heart misgives me that possibly he may not like it.”
“Foolish little heart, to have such misgivings! Why don’t you set the doubt at rest by asking him and finding out what he will answer?”
“No, no, Anna, I cannot do that, because he is so kind that he would be sure to give me a prompt and cheerful consent, no matter how much secret reluctance he might have to the measure.”
“Then if you never propose the matter to him, I don’t see how you will accomplish your purpose.”
“By your means, dear Anna, I hope to do so.”
“How by my means, you absurd little thing?”
“I want you to find out in some other delicate way than by direct questioning whether my wish would be agreeable to General Lyon.”