"
"But it exactly suits you and doesn't make you ridiculous like my name
does me!" Sylvia Wharton announced unexpectedly, breaking into the
conversation for the first time during the evening in her dull, even
tones. "What is really horrid is to have a name that suggests some one
very beautiful and graceful--a name that sounds like water running over
pebbles in a brook and then to look like I do. I wish everybody would
call me Mary Jane! I would like to have a plain, homely name."
Such was the astonishment following Sylvia's protest that no one spoke
for at least half a minute. Who could have supposed her capable of
developing so much of an idea? For once in their acquaintance Polly
(for of course Sylvia managed to be next her) laughed with the little
girl instead of at her, at the same time taking the trouble to give one
of her stiff flaxen braids an amused tug, while Miss McMurtry, in order
to break the silence, went on talking about herself.
"Of course my name suits me, Sylvia, that is the worst of it," she
laughed. "How can any one named Martha escape being a Martha? Oh, I
presume the name taken by itself is a good old-fashioned one, but in
combination with McMurtry it has such an old-maidy, school-teachery
sound that I have been compelled to live up to it.
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