“I said you had been christened, darling.”
“Christened!” she repeated softly, wondering just what the word might mean.
“And did you say I had a name now, papa?”
“Yes, dear; and you think it was time, don't you?”
“I have wanted one for a very long while,” she said, with a little half sigh; “but did you say my name was Courage?”
“Yes, Courage; it's a pretty name, isn't it?”
“I don't know,” rather doubtfully. “Do other little girls have it?”
“No, I believe not; but probably they don't deserve it.”
“I would like to have been named Arabella,” she replied, somewhat aggrieved. “Why did you not let me choose, papa?”
“Why, I never thought of that, Baby; besides, it isn't customary to consult children about what names they shall have—is it, Mary?” turning to Mary Duff, who, because of the narrow flagging, was walking just behind them.