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 scaled, 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 matter,” 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 is 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.