"What were you saying about me, mother?" she asked, when Mrs. Bertram
had turned the corner.

"I was only telling about your name, my dearie girl. _He_ always
gave me my way, poor man, so I fixed on Beatrice. I said it would fit
all round, and it did. Shut that window, will you, Bee?--the wind is
very sharp for the time of year. You don't mind my calling you Bee now
and then--even if it doesn't seem quite to fit?" continued Mrs.
Meadowsweet.

"No, mother, of course not. Call me anything in the world you fancy.
What's in a name?"

"Don't say that, Trixie, there's a great deal in a name."

"Well, I get confused with mine now and then. Mother, I just came in to
kiss you and run away again. Alice Bell and I are going to the lecture
at the Town Hall. It begins at five, and it's half-past four now.
Good-bye, I shall be home to supper."

"One moment, Bee, I am really pleased that your fine friend's mother has
chosen to call at last."

Beatrice frowned.

"Catherine is not my fine friend," she said.

"Well, your _friend_, then, dearie. I am glad your friend's mother
has called."