t Stevie had been,--the
Christmas gift to them all. Dr. Hoffman declared that he was really
jealous that she should not transfer all her affections to his little
daughter. "He should not call her Haneran now."

"I should hope you wouldn't," declared Hanny, mirthfully. "You ought to
name her Margaret, and we could all call her Daisy. That's such a
cheerful, pretty name!"

"But she won't be white and gold. She would have to be a Michaelmas
daisy. And we couldn't call her Pearl, with her dark eyes and hair.
Still, I think Margaret one of the noblest and sweetest of names."

"I don't suppose any one will think Hannah a sweet name," said the
little girl, rather ruefully. "They all say--it's a _good_ name. But I
don't want to be just like Grandmother Van Kortlandt. When I am real old
I would rather be like Grandmother Underhill."

"Luckily, the names do not endow us with the natures."

In the end, it _was_ Margaret; and they called her Daisy, much to the
little girl's delight. When Mrs. Jasper heard of the name, she sent her
a beautiful pair of sleeve-pins. They were used to pin through the
shoulders and sleeves of babies' dresses. It seemed then as if all
babies had beautiful fat necks, and pretty dimpled arms.

Dolly's little girl was called Annette Dorothea; but her household name
was Annie.

Little Stevie had come to grandmother's to stay a week or so. He cried a
little the first night for mamma. Hanny begged to have him put in her
bed; and she sat and told him Mother Goose Melodies until he dropped
asleep. He was such a sweet, cunning roly-poly, that she couldn't help
kissing him when she came to bed; and she longed to take him in her arms
and hug him up; but she was afraid he might wake and cry.

The next night he was quite ready to go to Nan's bed, and didn't cry a
bit.

Hanny had a delightful time taking him round among the girls. Her mother
said, "You and your father will have that child spoiled." But Hanny
might have turned the tables, if she had seen grandmother when she had
to be in school.

As for Grandfather Underhill, he thought with Hanny there never had been
such a smart and wonderful baby. Jim taught him some rather
reprehensible tricks. He was still full of fun and mischief, and already
had a crowd of admirers in college.

And, oh, how they missed the baby when he was gone! It didn't seem as
if one little mite could fill the house; but it was big and empty now.

John's courtship had not been