"Don't call me by my hateful name, dearest. We will find some other, if I must have a name for you."
"Why, that is like Romeo!"
"So it is; I wish I had no worse than Romeo's reason. I had rather have had the vulgarest Anglo-Saxon name than this Jewish one. Happily, I need have no fear in telling you that; you are no Puritan."
"As little as a girl could be." She laughed in her happiness. "Have you the same dislike for your sister's name?"
"Just the same. I believe it partly explains her life."
"She will not be against us, though?"
"Neither for nor against, I am afraid. Yet I have to thank her for the meeting with you at Pompeii. Why haven't you asked me how I came there?"
"I never thought to ask. It seemed so natural. I longed for you, and you stood before me. I could almost believe that my longing had power to bring you, so strong it was. But tell me."
He did so, and again they lost themselves in rapturous dreamland.
"Do you think Mr. Mallard will wish to see me?" she asked timidly.