"That'll do for a while," answered Osbert; "but what she wants to know most is your wife's name and all the children's." "Oh, is that it?" said Stephen coolly. "Then you may tell her one of the children is named after you, and another for our mother; and we have an Agnes and a Derette: and if she wants to know the cat's name too--" Osbert roared. "Oh, let's have the cat's name, by all means," said he; and Stephen gravely informed him that it was Gib. As Agnes was at that time one of the commonest names in England, about as universal as Mary or Elizabeth now, Stephen felt himself pretty safe in giving it; but the name of his eldest son he did not mention. "Well, I'd better go home before I forget them," said Osbert. "Let's see--Osbert, Edild, Agnes, and Derette--and the cat is Gib. I think I shall remember. But I haven't had your wife's." "I'll walk back with you," said Stephen, evading the query; and they went out together. "Stephen, lad," said Osbert, when they had left the house, "I've a notion thou dost not want to tell thy wife's name. Is it true, or it's only my fancy?" "Have you?" responded Stephen shortly. "Ay, I have; and if it be thus, say so, but don't tell me what it is. It's nought to me; so long as she makes thee a good wife I care nought who she is; but if I know nothing, I can say nothing. Only, if I knew thou wouldst as lief hold thy peace o'er it, I would not ask thee again." "She is the best wife and the best woman that ever breathed," replied Stephen earnestly: "and you are right, old man--I don't want to tell it." "Then keep thine own counsel," answered his brother. "Farewell, and God speed thee!" Stephen turned back, and Osbert stood for a moment looking after him. "If I thought it possible," said the porter to himself,--"but I don't see how it could be any way--I should guess that the name of Stephen's wife began and ended with an _e_. I am sure he was set on her once--and that would account for any reluctance to name her: but I don't see how it could be. Well! it doesn't matter to me. It's a queer world this." With which profoundly original and philosophical remark, Osbert turned round and went home. "Well, what is it?" cried Anania, the moment he entered. "Let me unlade my brains," said Osbert, "for I'm like a basket full of apples; and if they are not carefully taken out, they'll be bruised and good for nought. Stephen's children are called Edild, Agnes, Osbert, and Derette--" "But his wife! it's his wife I want to know about." "Dear, now! I don't think he told me that," said Osbert with lamb-like innocence, as if it had only just occurred to him. "Why, that was what you went for, stupid!" "Well, to be sure!" returned Osbert in meek astonishment, which he acted to perfection. "He told me the cat's name, if that will suit you instead." "I wish the cat were inside you this minute!" screamed Anania.