Violet.
Why, I forgot to ask his name! I could not call him did I wish to, and I might wish, being affrighted. Yet he shall not want so simple a matter; I’ll give him a name. I’ll call him [commandingly] Oliver! [Entreatingly] Oliver! thy Violet calls thee. [Indifferently] Oliver! I do not like the name, ’tis too round.
Northlake [afar].
What, ho, Violet!
Violet.
I’ll call him Peter. What, ho [piquantly], Peter! ’Tis too piercing; I’ll none of it. Let me think: I’ll call him [slowly] Daniel! Dost hear me [inquiringly slow], Daniel? I like it no better than the first. ’Tis too long.
Northlake [nearer].
Where art thou, Violet?
Violet.
I’ll call him—yes, I’ll call him Joseph. [Tenderly] Joseph! wilt thou not come? Thy Violet calls thee. No, no, ’tis a mistake; I’ll not call him Joseph,—’tis too, too flat. I’ll call him—let me see—I’ll call him a name borne by none other, oft dreamed by me, but never met until this morn. I’ll call him my Ideal, my dear, dear Ideal.