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 life but fasten mother's and Sophy's buttons at the back."

She could manage all but two, and she allowed Gram to help her with them. As she stood by him in the sunshine while he fastened her dress, he became aware of the faint, mild fragrance of her hair and her body. He noticed one or two small rents in the silk, which were carefully darned, and the sight of it filled his heart with an infinite tenderness towards her.

"Do you think Helge a nice name?" he asked, when they were having lunch at an osteria far out on the Campagna.

"Yes; I like it."

"Do you know that it is my Christian name?"

"Yes; I saw you had written it in the visitors' book at the club." She blushed slightly, thinking he might believe that she had looked it up on purpose.

"I suppose it is nice. On the whole, there are few names that are nice or ugly in themselves; it all depends if you like the people or not. When I was a boy we had a nurse called Jenny; I could not bear her, and ever since I thought the name was hideous and common. It seemed to me preposterous that you should be called Jenny, but now I think it so pretty; it gives one an idea of fairness. Can you not hear how delicately fair it sounds?—Jenny—a dark woman could not be called that, not Miss Jahrman, for instance. Francesca suits her captiallycapitally [sic], don't you think? It sounds so capricious, but Jenny is nice and bright."

"It is a name we've always had in my father's family," she said, by way of an answer.

"What do you think of Rebecca, for instance?"

"I don't know. Rather harsh and clattering, perhaps, but it is pretty, though."

"My mother's name is Rebecca," said Helge. "I think it sounds hard, too. My sister's name is Sophy. She married