"You know we can call him Alick till he grows longer," suggested John, gravely,—"or Sandy, if you like it better."
"Sandy!" exclaimed Gatty, indignantly. "Mr. Logan's Scotch terrier is named Sandy; and he is an ugly little thing. I don't mind Alick, though."
Alick was born on the second day of May, and Letty was growing quite strong and well again, when a neighbour of Aunt Eunice's called one day with sad news. The old lady had been found dead in her bed that morning. The funeral was appointed for the next day, and one and all the relations were asked to attend it. John went out at once to assist in the necessary arrangements, and the others were to go on the day of the funeral. Agnes came over in the afternoon to talk about it.
"I suppose you will go, of course?" said she, after a little pause.
"No," replied Letty. "John does not think it best. You know I have not been very strong lately; and he is afraid of my making myself sick. I am very much disappointed; but I suppose he is right."
"I don't believe it would hurt you," said Agnes.
"Nor I; but still it might."
"And so kind as Aunt Eunice has always been to you, too!" continued Agnes. "It will look very odd for you to stay at home. If I were you, I would set my foot down and go, whether or not."
"You don't know John, or you would not talk in that way. When he once makes up his mind, that is all about it. However, I do suppose he would let me go, if I really insisted upon it, this time; but I don't like to take the responsibility; and, then, I don't want to worry him. Suppose the baby should be sick after it: how should I feel!"
"Nonsense! It won't hurt him. Babies are not so easily made sick as men suppose. If you were to listen to Joe, you would think that Madge ought to be kept under a glass case and only taken out upon fine days. For my part, I believe in making them hardy. Here comes Mrs. Trescott. Now, I shall just ask her; for I really do not think it looks decent for you to stay at home."