"He is really a very pretty doll for a boy doll," Tess observed. "You really should have a very pretty name for him."
"I know," agreed the anxious mother. "But all the nice names seem to have been used up. Wha – what do you think of 'Brandywine,' Tessie?"
"Goodness! The name of that avenue we just passed? Why, Dot!" ejaculated the horrified older sister. "That's a nawful name! And we're temp'rance."
"Yes. It is kind of liquorish, I s'pose," admitted Dot. "But it sounds different. Tom, and Edgar, and Wilfred, and Feodor, and St. John, and Clarence, and Montmorency, and Peter, and Henry, and Vanscombe, and Michael, and all those others, have been used over and over again in naming babies," Dot said with seriousness. "You know we've heard of somebody, or know somebody, named by all of those names. Oh, Tess!" she ejaculated suddenly, "look there!"
The automobile party were just passing Mr. Stout's big tobacco barn. One leaf of the main door was open and hooked back and Dot was pointing eagerly to some large black letters painted upon the inside of this door.
"What a pretty name that is!" she whispered to Tess, excitedly. "'Nosmo'! Did you ever hear of it before?"
"No-o, Dottie, I never did," her sister agreed slowly. "'Nosmo' sounds kind of funny, doesn't it? I – I never heard of a boy called that."
"Well, Tess Kenway!" cried her little sister indignantly, "isn't that just what we want? A boy's name that hasn't ever been used on a boy before?"
"That's so, Dottie," agreed the more cautious Tess. "That is so. No boy has had it and spoiled it by being bad." Tess' opinion of the genus boy was governed largely by the attitude Ruth seemed to hold toward all boyhood.
"It's brand new," declared Dot, christening the sailor-baby on the spot, and without bell, book, or candle. "Nosmo Kenway. Isn't that nice? He's so cute, too!" and she seized the new doll and pressed her red lips to the sailor-boy's highly flushed cheek.
"Nosmo Kenway," murmured Tess. "Oughtn't he to have a middle name?"
"Oh, well," said Dot. "We can give him that afterward – if we find a good one. But middle names don't really count, after all."
The merry party of automobilists ran out as far as Mr. Bob Buckham's – the strawberry man, as they called him – a very good friend of theirs. Mrs. Buckham was confined to her chair and the Corner House girls always took her flowers or something nice when they called at the farm-house.
The Kenways and Neale went in to see the invalid for a minute, leaving Cecile and Luke Shepard alone in the car. The keen-eyed girl suddenly leaned forward and tapped her brother on the arm.
"Hul-lo!" he said, waking from a day-dream.
"Penny for your thoughts, Luke?" she suggested.
"Worth more than that, Sis."
"I know. They were about Ruth Kenway," and Cecile laughed, although her eyes were anxious.
"Witch!" exclaimed Luke, flushing a little.
"Beware, young man!" his sister said, shaking an admonitory finger.
"Beware of the dog?" queried Luke with a smile.
"Just so, Boy. There is a dog. A big one in the path."
"Why, Sis, I don't believe Ruth Kenway has ever even thought of a boy – "
"As you are thinking of her?" his sister broke in softly. "No. I think she is perfectly 'heart whole and fancy free.' And so ought you to be, Luke."
"Well, she's such a sweet girl," he declared, his eyes shining.
"She certainly is."
"Then what have you against my – my liking her?"
"There is nothing I'd like better in this world, Luke," his sister declared earnestly, "than to see you happy in the friendship of such a girl as Ruth."
"Then – "
"Remember Neighbor," Cecile said, earnestly.
"Oh, bother Neighbor!" muttered Luke.
"No. You would not like to see him bothered. And he is a very good friend of yours. He can and will help you get a start in the world after you have finished at college. His aid may mean ten years' advantage to you."
"Do you suppose I care what Neighbor does with his money?" demanded Luke, hotly.
"No. Not for just what the money would bring you," she agreed. "But think! What have you to offer Ruth Kenway if you should come to the point where you might ask her to engage herself to you? We're just as poor as Job's turkey after it was picked to the bones!"
"I know it, Sis," groaned the young fellow.
"And without Neighbor's help you may have a long and hard struggle getting anywhere," Cecile said gravely.
"Too true, Sis."
"Well – then – "
The Kenways and Neale O'Neil reappeared. The visiting brother fell silent. Luke Shepard scarcely had a word to say during the remainder of the automobile ride.
CHAPTER VII
A FELINE FUROR
Returning to town, the automobile party passed Stout's tobacco barn again and when it came in sight Dot eagerly began to explain to the older girls how and where she had found a name for the sailor-baby that Luke Shepard had given her.
"That is a real pretty name I think," said Ruth, absently. "And quite new I am sure."
Agnes demanded again where the smallest Corner House girl had seen the name, 'Nosmo' painted. "Why!" she exclaimed, "it says 'king' – that's what is painted on that door, children."
"Oh, but, Sister!" exclaimed Tess. "That is the other half of the big door. They've shut the half that was open when we rode along before and opened the other one." But Agnes was not listening to this explanation. She had turned back to Ruth and Cecile.
Dot was eagerly repeating something over and over to herself. Tess turned to demand what it was.
"Oh, Tessie!" the smallest Corner House girl cried, "that sounds b-e-a-u-ti-ful!"
"What does?" demanded her sister.
"I've just the nicest middle name for this sailor-baby," and she hugged her new possession again.
"What is it?" asked the interested Tess.
"Nosmo King Kenway. Isn't that nice?" eagerly cried the little girl. "It's – it's so 'ristocratic. Don't you think so, Tess?"
Tess repeated the full name, too. It did sound rather nice. The oftener you said it the better it sounded. And – yet – there was something a wee bit peculiar about it. But Tess was too kind-hearted to suggest anything wrong with the name, as long as Dot liked it so much. And she had found it all her very own self!
"I wonder what Sammy will say to that," murmured Dot placidly. "I guess he'll think it is a nice name, won't he?"
"Well, if he doesn't it won't make any difference," Tess said loftily.
Just at that time, however, (though quite unsuspected by the Corner House girls) Sammy Pinkney had his mind quite filled with other and more important matters.
Since his long illness in the spring Sammy had remained something of a stranger to his oldtime boy friends. Of course, as soon as he got into school again and associated with the boys of his own class once more, he would get back into the "gang" as he called it. He was not a boy to be gibed because he played with girls so much.
However, habit brought him to the side gate of the Corner House on this afternoon, whether the little girls were at home or not. He was so often in and out of the house that neither Mrs. MacCall nor Linda paid much attention to him; for although Sammy Pinkney was as "full of mischief as a chestnut is of meat" (to quote Mrs. MacCall) he never touched anything about the house that was not