"I can't say it again," I protested.
"If you can't even say it twice, it's no good for Evangeline."
A thoughtful silence fell upon us.
"Have you fixed on a name for her yet?" Miss Atherley asked her mother.
"Evangeline, of course."
"No, I mean a name for her to call you. Because if she's going to call you 'Auntie' or 'Darling,' or whatever you decide on, you'd better start by teaching her that."
And then I had a brilliant idea.
"I've got the very word," I said. "It's 'hallo.' You see, it's a pleasant form of greeting to any stranger, and it will go perfectly with the next word that she's taught, whatever it may be."
"Supposing it's 'wardrobe,'" suggested Archie, "or 'sardine'?"
"Why not? 'Hallo, Sardine' is the perfect title for a revue. Witty, subtle, neat—probably the great brain of the Revue King has already evolved it, and is planning the opening scene."