Katy knew exactly what it would be called, but as Wilford had never asked her, she was keeping it a secret, not doubting that the others would be quite as much delighted as herself with the novel name, “Genevra.”  Not long before her illness she had read an English story, which had in it a Genevra, and she had at once seized upon it as the most delightful cognomen a person could well possess.  “Genevra Cameron!” She had repeated it to herself many a time as she sat with her baby on her lap.  She had written it on sundry slips of paper, which had afterward found their way into the grate; and once she had scratched with her diamond ring upon the window pane in her dressing-room, where it now stood in legible characters, “Genevra Cameron!” There should be no middle name to take from the sweetness of the first—­only Genevra—­that was sufficient; and the little lady tapped her foot impatiently upon the carpet, wishing Wilford and father would hurry and come in.

Never for an instant had it entered her mind that she, as the mother, would not be permitted to call her baby what she chose; so when she heard Mrs. Cameron speaking to Helen of Margaret Augusta, she smiled complacently, tossing her curls of golden brown, and thinking to herself, “Maggie Cameron—­pretty enough, but not like Genevra.  Indeed I shall not have any Margarets now; next time perhaps I may.”

Since the party at Mrs. Grandon’s, Mrs. Cameron had been very kind and gracious to Helen, while Juno, who understood that Helen believed her engaged to Mark, treated her with far more attention than before, and now both kept near to her, chatting familiarly, Mrs. Cameron about the opera, and Juno the matinee, to which they were to take her, without waiting for Katy.  Helen’s success at the party, together with Mrs. Banker’s and Sybil’s evident determination to bring her forward, had taught them that she could not well be longer ignored, and as Juno did not greatly dread her as a rival now, she could afford to be gracious; and she was, making herself so agreeable that Helen observed the change, imputing it to the fact that Mark had probably returned to his allegiance, and blaming herself for having unwittingly wounded Juno by receiving his attentions.  The belief that she was adding to another’s happiness made it easier to bear the pang, which would make itself felt whenever she recalled the kindly manner, the handsome face, and more than all the expressive eyes, which had looked whole volumes into hers; and Helen quite enjoyed her first dinner party at the Camerons, though she began to wish, with Katy, that the gentlemen would join them.

They came at last, and Father Cameron drew his chair close to Katy’s side, laying his hand on her little soft, warm one, giving it a squeeze as the bright face glanced lovingly into his.  Father Cameron was a milder, gentler man than he was before Katy came, going much oftener into society, and not so frequently shocking his wife with expressions and opinions which she held as heterodox.  Katy had a softening influence over him, and he loved her as well perhaps as he had ever loved his own children.