University of Virginia Library

23. CHAPTER XXIII.
BABY'S NAME.

WILFORD had wished for a son, and in the first
moment of disappointment he had almost been
conscious of a resentful feeling toward Katy, who
had given him only a daughter. A boy, a Cameron
heir, was something of which to be proud; but a
little girl, scarcely larger than the last doll with which
Katy had played, was a different thing, and it required
all Wilford's philosophy and common sense to keep him
from showing his chagrin to the girlish creature, whose
love had fastened with an idolatrous grasp upon her
child, clinging to it with a devotion which made Helen
tremble as she thought what if God should take it from
her.

“He won't, oh, he won't,” Katy said, when once she
suggested the possibility, and in the eyes usually so
soft and gentle there was a fierce gleam, as Katy hugged
her baby closer to her and said,

“God does not willfully torment us. He will not take
my baby, when my whole life would die with it. I had
almost forgotten to pray, there was so much else to do,
till baby came, but now I never go to sleep at night or
waken in the morning, that there does not come a prayer

of thanks for baby given to me. I could hardly love
God if he took her away.”

There was a chill feeling at Helen's heart as she listened
to her sister and then glanced at the baby so passionately
loved. In time it would be pretty, for it had
Katy's perfect features, and the hair just beginning to
grow was a soft, golden brown; but it was too small now,
too puny to be handsome, while in its eyes there was a
scared, hunted kind of look, which chafed Wilford more
than aught else could have done, for that was the look
which had crept into Katy's eyes at Newport when she
found she was not going home.

Many discussions had been held at the elder Cameron's
concerning its name, Mrs. Cameron deciding finally that
it should bear her own, Margaret Augusta, while Juno advocated
that of Rose Marie, inasmuch as their new clergyman
would Frenchify the pronunciation so perfectly,
rolling the r, and placing so much accent on the last syllable.
At this the father Cameron swore as “cussed nonsense.”
“Better call it Jemima, a grand sight, than saddle
it with such a silly name as Rose Mah-ree, with a roll to
the r,” and with another oath the disgusted old man departed,
while Bell suggested that Katy might wish to
have a voice in naming her own child.

This was a possibility that had formed no part of Mrs.
Cameron's thoughts, or Juno's. Of course Katy would
acquiesce in whatever Wilford said was best, and he
always thought as they did. Consequently there would
be no trouble whatever. It was time the child had a
name,—time it wore the elegant christening robe, Mrs.
Cameron's gift, which cost more money than would
have fed a hungry family for weeks. The matter must
be decided, and with a view of deciding it, a family dinner
party was held at No. —, Fifth Avenue, the day succeeding
Sybil Grandon's party.

Very pure and beautiful Katy looked as she took her
old place in the chair they called hers at father Cameron's,
because it was the one she had always preferred to
any other,—a large, motherly easy-chair, which took in
nearly the whole of her petite figure, and against whose
soft cushioned back she leaned her curly head with a
pretty air of importance, as, after dinner was over, she

came back to the parlor with the other ladies, and waited
for the gentlemen to join them, when they were to talk
up baby's name.

Katy knew exactly what it would be called, but as Wilford
had never asked her, she was keeping it a secret, not
doubting that the others would be quite as much delighted
as herself with the novel name. Not long before
her illness she had read an English story, which had in
it a Genevra, and she had at once seized upon it as the
most delightful cognomen a person could well possess.
“Genevra Cameron!” She had repeated it to herself
many a time as she sat with her baby in her lap. She
had written it on sundry slips of paper, which had afterwards
found their way into the grate; and once she had
scratched with her diamond ring upon the window pane
in her dressing-room, where it now stood in legible characters,
“Genevra Cameron!” There should be no middle
name to take from the sweetness of the first—only Genevra—that
was sufficient; and the little lady tapped her
foot impatiently upon the carpet, wishing Wilford and
his father would hurry and come in.

Never for an instant had it entered her mind that she,
as the mother, would not be permitted to call her baby
what she chose; so when she heard Mrs. Cameron speaking
to Helen of Margaret Augusta, she smiled complacently,
tossing her curls of golden brown, and thinking
to herself, “Maggie Cameron—pretty enough, but not
like Genevra. Indeed, I shall not have any Margarets
now; next time perhaps I may.”

The gentlemen came at last, and father Cameron drew
his chair close to Katy's side, laying his hand on her
little soft warm one, and giving it a squeeze as the bright
face glanced lovingly into his. Father Cameron had
grown a milder, gentler man since Katy came. He now
went much oftener into society, and did not so frequently
shock his wife with expressions and opinions which she
held as heterodox. Katy had a softening influence over
him, and he loved her as well perhaps as he had ever
loved his own children.

“Better,” Juno said; and now she touched Bell's arm,
to have her see “how father was petting Katy.”

But Bell did not care, while Wilford was pleased, and

himself drew nearer the chair, standing just behind it,
so that Katy could not see him as he smoothed her curly
head, and said, half indifferently, “Now for the all-important
name. What shall we call our daughter?”

“Let your mother speak first,” Katy said, and thus
appealed to, Mrs. Cameron came up to Wilford and expressed
her preference for Margaret, as being a good
name, an aristocratic name, and her own.

“Yes, but not half so pretty and striking as Rose
Marie,” Juno chimed in.

“Rose Mary! Thunder!” father Cameron exclaimed.
“Call her a marygold, or a sunflower, just as much.
Don't go to being fools by giving a child a heathenish
name. Give us your opinion, Katy.”

“I have known from the first,” Katy replied, “and
I am sure you will agree with me. 'Tis a beautiful
name of a sweet young girl, and there was a great secret
about her, too—Genevra, baby will be called,” and Katy
looked straight into the fire, wholly unconscious of the
effect that name had produced upon Wilford and his
mother.

Wilford's face was white as marble, and his eyes turned
quickly to his mother, who, in her first shock, started so
violently as to throw down from the stand a costly vase,
which was broken in many pieces. This occasioned a
little diversion, and by the time the flowers and fragments
were gathered up, Wilford's lips were not quite so
livid, but he dared not trust his voice yet, and listened
while his sisters gave their opinion of the name, Bell deciding
for it at once, and Juno hesitating until she had
heard from a higher power than Katy.

“What put that fanciful name into your head?” Mrs.
Cameron asked.

Katy explained, and with the removal of the fear,
which for a few moments had chilled his blood, Wilford
grew calm again; while into his heart there crept the
thought that by giving that name to his child, some
slight atonement might be made to her above whose
head the English daisies had blossomed and faded many
a year. But not so with his mother;—the child should
not be called Genevra if she could prevent it; and she
opposed it with all her powers, offering at last, as a great

concession on her part, to let it bear the name of either
of Katy's family—Hannah and Betsy excepted, of course
Lucy Lennox, Helen Lennox, Katy Lennox, anything
but Genevra. As usual, Wilford, when he learned her
mind, joined with her, notwithstanding his secret preference,
and the discussion became quite warm, especially
as Katy evinced a willfulness for which Helen had
never given her credit. Hitherto she had been as yielding
as wax, but on this point she was firm, gathering
strength from the fact that Wilford did not oppose her
as he usually did. She could not, perhaps, have resisted
him, but his manner was not very decided, and so she
quietly persisted, “Genevra or nothing,” until the others
gave up the contest, hoping she would feel differently
after a few days' reflection. But Katy knew she shouldn't,
and Helen could not overcome the exultation with which
she saw her little sister put the Camerons to rout and remain
master of the field.

“After all it does not matters,” Mrs. Cameron said to
her daughters, when, after Mrs. Wilford was gone, she
sat talking of Katy's queer fancy and her obstinacy in
adhering to it. “It does not matter, and on the whole I
had as soon the christening would be postponed until
the child is more presentable than now. It will be prettier
by and by, and the dress will become it better. We
can afford to wait.”

This heartless view of the case was readily adopted
by Juno, while Bell professed to be terribly shocked at
hearing them talk thus of a baptism, as if it were a
mere show and nothing more, wondering if the Saviour
thought of dress or personal appearance when the Hebrew
mothers brought their children to him. But little
did Mrs. Cameron or Juno care for the baptism except
as a display, and as both would be much prouder of a
fine-looking child, they were well content to wait until
such time as Katy should incline more favorably to their
Margaret or Rose Marie. To Helen it seemed highly
probable that after a private interview with Wilford Katy
would change her mind, and she felt a wickedly agreeable
degree of disappointment when, on the day following
the dinner party, she found her sister even more resolved
than ever upon having her own way. Like the Camerons,

she did not feel the necessity of haste,—time enough
by and by, when she would not have so much opposition
to encounter, she said; and as Wilford did not care, it
was finally arranged that they would wait awhile ere
they gave a cognomen to the little nameless child, only
known as Baby Cameron.