he idea of naming
the book had never once entered my head.

"A good title is of vast importance," said the doctor, knitting his
brows thoughtfully. "We must all think about that. What shall it be? eh,
Mrs. Kerby, what shall it be?"

"Perhaps something may strike us after we have fairly set to work," my
husband suggested. "Talking of work," he continued, turning to me, "how
are you to find time, Leah, with your nursery occupations, for writing
down all the stories as I tell them?"

"I have been thinking of that this morning," said I, "and have come to
the conclusion that I shall have but little leisure to write from your
dictation in the day-time. What with dressing and washing the children,
teaching them, giving them their meals, taking them out to walk, and
keeping them amused at home--to say nothing of sitting sociably at work
with the dame and her two girls in the afternoon--I am afraid I shall
have few opportunities of doing my part of the book between breakfast
and tea-time. But when the children are in bed, and the farmer and his
family are reading or dozing, I should have at least three unoccupied
hours to spare. So, if you don't mind putting off our working-time till
after dark--"

"There's the title!" shouted the doctor, jumping out of his chair as if
he had been shot.

"Where?" cried I, looking all round me in the surprise of the moment,
as if I had expected to see the title magically inscribed for us on the
walls of the room.

"In your last words, to be sure!" rejoined the doctor. "You said just
now that you would not have leisure to write from Mr. Kerby's dictation
till _after dark._ What can we do better than name the book after the
time when the book is written? Call it boldly, _After dark._ Stop!
before anybody says a word for or against it, let us see how the name
looks on paper."

I opened my writing-desk in a great flutter. The doctor selected the
largest sheet of paper and the broadest-nibbed pen he could find, and
wrote in majestic round-text letters, with alternate thin and thick
strokes beautiful to see, the two cabalistic words

AFTER DARK.

We all three laid our heads together over the paper, and in breathless
silence studied the effect of the round-text: William raising his green
shade in the excitement of the moment, and actually disobeying the
doctor's orders about not using his eyes, in the doctor's own presence!
After a good long stare, we looked round solemn