CHAPTER SECOND
WHAT SHALL WE CALL IT?
"And now what shall we call it?" Norah asked.
"Call it?" echoed Marion.
They sat on the rocks beside a mountain stream that filled the air with its delicious murmur.
"Certainly, everything has to have a name. Shall it be Carpenter and Pennington, Dry-goods?"
Marion removed the dark glasses she wore, turning a pair of serious eyes upon her companion. "How absurd," she said.
"No," insisted Norah, taking the glasses and adjusting them on her own nose, "not at all. It is businesslike. Can't you see it?—a large black sign with gilt letters."
"Give me my glasses, and don't be silly. It is not to be a dry-goods' store in the first place, and above all things let us be original. If such signs are customary, ours must be different."
"Here speaks wisdom. Here the instinct of the born advertiser betrays itself. Let us think." Norah buried her face in her hands.