White Lilac | Page 2

There was a stir amongst the blankets in the cradle just then, and
presently a little cry. The baby was awake. Very soon she was in Mrs
Leigh's arms, who examined the tiny face with great interest, while the
mother stood by, silent, but eager for the first expression of admiration.
"What a beautifully fair child!" exclaimed Mrs Leigh.
"Everyone says that as sees her," said Mrs White with quiet triumph.
"She features my mother's family--they all had such wonderful white
skins. But," anxiously, "you don't think she looks weakly, do you,
ma'am?"
"Oh, no," answered Mrs Leigh in rather a doubtful tone. She stood up
and weighed the child in her arms, moving nearer the window. "She's a
little thing, but I dare say she's not the less strong for that."
"It makes me naturally a bit fearsome over her," said Mrs White; "for,
as you know, ma'am, I've buried three children since we've bin here.
Ne'er a one of 'em all left me. It seems when I look at this little un as
how I must keep her. I don't seem as if I could let her go too."

"Oh, she'll grow up and be a comfort to you, I don't doubt," said Mrs
Leigh cheerfully. "Fair-complexioned children are very often
wonderfully healthy and strong. But really," she continued, looking
closely at the baby's face, "I never saw such a skin in my life. Why,
she's as white as milk, or snow, or a lily, or--" She paused for a
comparison, and suddenly added, as her eye fell on the flowers, "or that
bunch of lilac."
"You're right, ma'am," agreed Mrs White with a smile of intense
gratification.
"And if I were you," continued Mrs Leigh, her good-natured face
beaming all over with a happy idea, "I should call her `Lilac'. That
would be a beautiful name for her. Lilac White. Nothing could be better;
it seems made for her."
Mrs White's expression changed to one of grave doubt.
"It do seem as how it would fit her," she said; "but that's not a Christian
name, is it, ma'am?"
"Well, it would make it one if you had her christened so, you see."
"I was thinking of making so bold as to call her `Annie', and to ask you
to stand for her, ma'am."
"And so I will, with pleasure. But don't call her Annie; we've got so
many Annies in the parish already it's quite confusing--and so many
Whites too. We should have to say `Annie White on the hill' every time
we spoke of her. I'm always mixing them up as it is. Don't call her
Annie, Mrs White, Lilac's far better. Ask your husband what he thinks
of it."
"Oh! Jem, he'll think as I do, ma'am," said Mrs White at once; "it isn't
Jem."
"Who is it, then? If you both like the name it can't matter to anyone
else."

"Well, ma'am," said Mrs White hesitatingly, as she took her child from
Mrs Leigh, and rocked it gently in her arms, "they'll all say down below
in the village, as how it's a fancy sort of a name, and maybe when she
grows up they'll laugh at her for it. I shouldn't like to feel as how I'd
given her a name to be made game of."
But Mrs Leigh was much too pleased with her fancy to give it up, and
she smilingly overcame this objection and all others. It was a pretty,
simple, and modest-sounding name, she said, with nothing in it that
could be made laughable. It was short to say, and above all it had the
advantage of being uncommon; as it was, so many mothers had desired
the honour of naming their daughters after the rector's wife, that the
number of "Annies" was overwhelming, but there certainly would not
be two "Lilac Whites" in the village. In short, as Mrs White told Jem
that evening, Mrs Leigh was "that set" on the name that she had to give
in to her. And so it was settled; and wonderfully soon afterwards it was
rumoured in the village that Mrs James White on the hill meant to call
her baby "Lilac."
This could not matter to anyone else, Mrs Leigh had said, but she was
mistaken. Every mother in the parish had her opinion to offer, for there
were not so many things happening, that even the very smallest could
be passed over without a proper amount of discussion when neighbours
met. On the whole they were not favourable opinions. It was felt that
Mrs White, who had always held herself high and been severe on the
follies of her friends, had now in her turn laid herself open to remark by
choosing an outlandish and fanciful name for her child. Lilies, Roses,