“Cynthy,” Mr. Judson repeated, in a tremulous voice, “Cynthy, not Cynthia.”
“H-how is it written,” said Jethro, leaning over it, “h-how is it written?”
“Cynthy,” answered Mr. Judson, involuntarily.
“Then make it Cynthy—make it Cynthy.”
“Cynthy it shall be,” said Mr. Judson, with conviction.
“When'll you have it done?”
“To-night,” replied Mr. Judson, with a twinkle in his eye, “to-night, as a special favor.”
“What time—w-what time?”
“Seven o'clock, sir. May I send it to your hotel? The Tremont House, I suppose?”
“I-I'll call,” said Jethro, so solemnly that Mr. Judson kept his laughter until he was gone.