that other people have given them."

"No one knows that better than I. I sometimes wonder what they might
have called me if I were a girl. Nothing as nice as Doraine, or Ruth,
I'll bet my soul on that. Something like Guinevere Aphrodite, or
Desdemona Venus, or--"

"We are getting away from the subject," she interrupted crisply. "Has it
occurred to you that poor little Mrs. Cruise might like to name her own
baby? Why should you men take it upon yourselves to choose a name for
her child? Don't you think you were a trifle high-handed in the matter?"

"Of course, if Mrs. Cruise doesn't like Doraine, we will--"

"You will suggest another, I suppose," she broke in scornfully. "Well,
I may as well inform you that you are about to strike a snag," she went
on, a trifle inelegantly in her desire to be emphatic. "We intend to see
to it that the mother of that baby gives it a name of her own choosing."

"May I inquire just who you mean by we?" he asked.

"The women,--three hundred of us, Mr. Percival, that's who. I for one
happen to know that Betty Cruise chose a name long ago. Her heart is set
on naming the baby after her mother,--Judith, I think it is. That's the
name she wants, but do you imagine she will have the hardihood or the
courage, poor little scrap, to oppose you, Mr. Percival? I mean you,
personally. She thinks your word is law. She would no more think of
defying you than she would think of--"

"Pardon me, Miss Clinton," he interrupted gently, "but don't you think
that's a trifle far-fetched? I am not a dictator, you know. I fancy Mrs.
Cruise knows that, even if you do not."

"I have heard all about your meeting last night," she went on
ruthlessly, her eyes flashing. "How you suggested the name, how you
settled the question to suit yourself, and how you called the men
together this morning and told them that the child was to be called
Doraine before you asked them to vote on it. Vote on it! What a
travesty! And no one had the nerve to stand up and say a word for that
poor little woman. Oh, you've got them well-tamed, Mr. Percival."

By this time the two nurses had appeared in the doorway, and several
other women at work down the line, scenting the fray, were approaching.

"I guess you'd better call off the vote, Mr. Percival," said one of the
nurses, eyeing him unflinchingly.

"I can't call it off. The men adopted the name unanimously. I have no
right to set aside their decision, no matter how hastily it wa