He had not stationed himself on the doorstep without a purpose, as
may be assumed. It was an important matter that he must try to
settle while standing there. He and Katrina had spent the whole
morning trying to choose a name for the child. They had been at it
for hours, without arriving at a decision. Finally Katrina had
said: "I don't see but that you'll have to take the child and go
stand on the stoop with her. Then you can ask the first female that
happens along what her name is, and the name she names we must give
to the girl, be it ugly or pretty."

Now the hut lay rather out of the way and it was seldom that any
one passed by their place; so Jan had to stand out there ever so
long, without seeing a soul. This was also a gray day, though no
rain fell. It was not windy and cold, however, but rather a bit
sultry. If Jan had not held the little girl in his arms he would
have lost heart.

"My dear Jan Anderson," he would have said to himself. "You must
remember that you live away down in the Ashdales, by Dove Lake,
where there isn't but one decent farmhouse and here and there a
poor fisherman's hut. Who'll you find hereabout with a name that's
pretty enough to give to your little girl?"

But since this was something which concerned his daughter he never
doubted that all would come right. He stood looking down toward the
lake, as if not caring to her how shut in from the whole countryside
it lay, in its rock-basin. He thought it might just happen that
some high-toned lady, with a grand name, would come rowing across
from Doveness, on the south shore of the lake. Because of the
little girl he felt almost sure this would come to pass.