"I hadn't thought of that," said Miss Patty.
They smiled at each other in concert, and a faint touch of colour arose to Miss Cordelia's slightly withered cheeks.
"Do you know," she said, hesitating, smiling—yes, and thrilling a little, too—"we've had so much to do with bringing it about, that somehow I feel as though it's going to be my baby—"
"Why, Cordelia!" whispered Miss Patty, who had been nodding throughout this confession. "That's exactly how I feel about it, too!"
It wasn't long after that before they began to look up names.
"If Josiah wasn't such a family name," said Miss Cordelia, "I'd like to call him Basil. That means kingly or royal." Then of course they turned to Cordelia. Cordelia meant warm-hearted. Patricia meant royal. Martha meant the ruler of the house.
They were pleased at these revelations.
The week before the great event was expected, Martha had a notion one day. She wished to visit the factory. Josiah interpreted this as the happiest of auguries.
"After seven generations," was his cryptic remark, "you simply can't keep them away. It's bred in the bone…."
He drove Martha down to the works himself, and took her through the various shops, some of which were of such a length that when you stood at one end, the other seemed to vanish into distance.