"Oh, is her name Marguerite?
I do think Marguerite is the dearest name!" Billy's eyes and voice were wistful.
"I don't--not the _dearest_.

Oh, it's all well enough, of course, but it can't be compared for a moment to--well, say, 'Billy'!" Billy smiled, but she shook her head.
"I'm afraid you're not a good judge of names," she objected.
"Yes, I am; though, for that matter, I should love your name, no matter what it was." "Even if 'twas 'Mary Jane,' eh ?" bantered Billy.

"Well, you'll have a chance to find out how you like that name pretty quick, sir.

We're going to have one here." "You're going to have a Mary Jane here?
Do you mean that Rosa's going away ?" "Mercy! I hope not," shuddered Billy.

"You don't find a Rosa in every kitchen--and never in employment agencies! My Mary Jane is a niece of Aunt Hannah's,--or rather, a cousin.