"It must have a name," said Bea, coming in one day, just a week before the wedding. "When Meg got married in 'Little Women,' she went to housekeeping in a little cottage, and they called it Dovecot. What shall I call mine?"
"Call it a house and let it go; better not begin with fancy names and all that, it won't last," advised Kat, rigidly practical.
"Yes, it will—always," asserted Bea, with the fond delusive belief, experienced by every women when in love, that life will be one endless courtship and honey-moon.
"I think a name is a pretty idea," said Kittie, recalling all the Roman titles she had ever heard of. "Call it—let's see, call it Fern-nook."
"Yes, I would," laughed Kat "It's so appropriate. There's not a fern within a mile, and not the ghost of a nook anywhere."
"Well, I thought Bird's-nest a real pretty name," said Bea, swinging her hat by its ribbon, and looking thoughtful. "But, somehow, I want something else."
"What kind of flowers are you going to have?" asked Kittie, with a view to selecting something appropriate this time.
"Geraniums in the big bed in front, with a border of some kind, then I will have vines all over the porch, and a lily in the little urn, and a heart-shaped bed of pansies under that shady side-window. None of those do for a name, though."
Kittie confessed that they did not, but said in a moment:
"We'll go up and ask Ernestine, if she can't think of something no one else can." To which they all agreed, and hurried up stairs forthwith.