one more 'e,' and an accent. That is so sweet, and graceful, and
distinguished!"

"But Aunt Desire won't have the name twisted. It is to be real,
plain Desire, or not at all."

Mrs. Megilp had shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, of course it can be that, to christen by, and marry by, and
be buried by. But between whiles,--people pick up names,--you'll
see!"

Mrs. Megilp began to call her "Daisy" when she was two years old.
Nobody could help what Mrs. Megilp took a fancy to call her by way
of endearment, of course; and Daisy she was growing to be in the
family, when one day, at seven years old, she heard Mrs. Megilp say
to her mother,--

"I don't see but that you've all got your _Desire_, after all. The
old lady is satisfied; and away up there in Hanover, what can it
signify to her? The child is 'Daisy,' practically, now, as long as
she lives."

The sharp, eager little gray eyes, so close together in the high,
delicate head, glanced up quickly at speaker and hearer.

"What old lady, mamma, away up in Hanover?"

"Your Aunt Desire, Daisy, whom you were named for. She lives in
Hanover. You are to go and see her there, this summer."