'Philip,' said Sylvia, one night, as he sate as still as a mouse in

her room, imagining her to be asleep. He was by her bed-side in a

moment.

'I've been thinking what she's to be called. Isabella, after mother;

and what were yo'r mother's name?' 'Margaret,' said he.

'Margaret Isabella; Isabella Margaret. Mother's called Bell. She

might be called Bella.' 'I could ha' wished her to be called after thee.' She made a little impatient movement.

'Nay; Sylvia's not a lucky name. Best be called after thy mother and

mine. And I want for to ask Hester to be godmother.' 'Anything thou likes, sweetheart. Shall we call her Rose, after

Hester Rose?' 'No, no!' said Sylvia; 'she mun be called after my mother, or thine,

or both. I should like her to be called Bella, after mother, because

she's so fond of baby.' 'Anything to please thee, darling.' 'Don't say that as if it didn't signify; there's a deal in having a

pretty name,' said Sylvia, a little annoyed. 'I ha' allays hated

being called Sylvia. It were after father's mother, Sylvia Steele.' 'I niver thought any name in a' the world so sweet and pretty as

Sylvia,' said Philip, fondly; but she was too much absorbed in her

own thoughts to notice either his manner or his words.

'There, yo'll not mind if it is Bella, because yo' see my mother is

alive to be pleased by its being named after her, and Hester may be

godmother, and I'll ha' t' dove-coloured silk as yo' gave me afore

we were married made up into a cloak for it to go to church in.' 'I got it for thee,' said Philip, a little disappointed. 'It'll be

too good for the baby.' 'Eh! but I'm so careless, I should be spilling something on it? But

if thou got it for me I cannot find i' my heart for t' wear it on

baby, and I'll have it made into a christening gown for mysel'. But

I'll niver feel at my ease in it, for fear of spoiling it.' 'Well! an' if thou does spoil it, love, I'll get thee another. I

make account of riches only for thee; that I may be able to get thee

whativer thou's a fancy for, for either thysel', or thy mother.' She lifted her pale face from her pillow, and put up her lips to

kiss him for these words.

Perhaps on that day Philip reached the zenith of his life's

happiness.




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