The Rainbow

"Is it a boy or a girl?" she asked.

"It's a girl--aren't you a girl, eh?" he shouted at the

infant, shaking his head. Its little face wrinkled up into the

oddest, funniest smile.

"Oh!" cried Ursula. "Oh, the dear! Oh, how nice when she

laughs!"

"She'll laugh hard enough," said the father.

"What is her name?" asked Ursula.

"She hasn't got a name, she's not worth one," said the man.

"Are you, you fag-end o' nothing?" he shouted to the baby. The

baby laughed.

"No we've been that busy, we've never took her to th'

registry office," came the woman's voice. "She was born on th'

boat here."

"But you know what you're going to call her?" asked

Ursula.

"We did think of Gladys Em'ly," said the mother.

"We thought of nowt o' th' sort," said the father.

"Hark at him! What do you want?' cried the mother in

exasperation.

"She'll be called Annabel after th' boat she was born

on."

"She's not, so there," said the mother, viciously defiant The father sat in humorous malice, grinning.

"Well, you'll see," he said.

And Ursula could tell, by the woman's vibrating exasperation,

that he would never give way.

"They're all nice names," she said. "Call her Gladys Annabel

Emily."

"Nay, that's heavy-laden, if you like," he answered.

"You see!" cried the woman. "He's that pig-headed!"

"And she's so nice, and she laughs, and she hasn't even got a

name," crooned Ursula to the child.

"Let me hold her," she added.

He yielded her the child, that smelt of babies. But it had

such blue, wide, china blue eyes, and it laughed so oddly, with

such a taking grimace, Ursula loved it. She cooed and talked to

it. It was such an odd, exciting child.

"What's your name?" the man suddenly asked of her.

"My name is Ursula--Ursula Brangwen," she replied.

"Ursula!" he exclaimed, dumbfounded.

"There was a Saint Ursula. It's a very old name," she added

hastily, in justification.

"Hey, mother!" he called.

There was no answer.

"Pem!" he called, "can't y'hear?"

"What?" came the short answer.

"What about 'Ursula'?" he grinned.

"What about what?" came the answer, and the woman

appeared in the doorway, ready for combat.

"Ursula--it's the lass's name there," he said,

gently.

The woman looked the young girl up and down. Evidently she

was attracted by her slim, graceful, new beauty, her effect of

white elegance, and her tender way of holding the child.

"Why, how do you write it?" the mother asked, awkward now she

was touched. Ursula spelled out her name. The man looked at the

woman. A bright, confused flush came over the mother's face, a

sort of luminous shyness.

"It's not a common name, is it!" she exclaimed,

excited as by an adventure.