Mrs. May was too sorry for the solitary youth, and too sympathising
with her husband, to make any objection, though she was not fond of
strangers, and had some anxieties. She had the utmost dependence on
Margaret's discretion, but there was a chance of awkward situations,
which papa was not likely to see or guard against. However, all
seemed to do very well, and no one ever came into her room without
some degree of rapture about Mr. Ernescliffe. The doctor reiterated
praises of his excellence, his principle, his ability and talent, his
amusing talk; the girls were always bringing reports of his
perfections; Norman retracted his grumbling at having his evenings
spoiled; and "the boys" were bursting with the secret that he was
teaching them to rig a little ship that was to astonish mamma on her
first coming downstairs, and to be named after the baby; while
Blanche did all the coquetry with him, from which Margaret abstained.
The universal desire was for mamma to see him, and when the time
came, she owned that papa's swan had not turned out a goose.

There were now no grounds for prolonging his stay; but it was very
hard to go, and he was glad to avail himself of the excuse of
remaining for the christening, when he was to represent the absent
godfather. After that, he must go; he had written to his Scottish
cousins to offer a visit, and he had a promise that he should soon be
afloat again. No place would ever seem to him so like home as Market
Stoneborough. He was quite like one of themselves, and took a full
share in the discussions on the baby's name, which, as all the old
family appellations had been used up, was an open question. The
doctor protested against Alice and Edith, which he said were the
universal names in the present day. The boys hissed every attempt of
their sisters at a romantic name, and then Harry wanted it to be
Atalantis! At last Dr. May announced that he should have her named