Then the river came into view and she held her breath in delight, for the purple haze of the mountains beyond hung low in the valley, and lent an indescribable charm to the whole surrounding country, as if it were not a reality, but some great, grand picture hung before them which they could gaze upon but never reach, for, as they approached the enchanted spot, the beautiful mountains as slowly receded, still clad in their purple veil and still mysteriously alluring. Under a clump of low, glistening cottonwoods among the tall, rank swale-grass and rough-leaved yellow-weed, the picnic party came to a halt and the merry children swarmed down over the wagon wheels, eager to begin their day's frolic beside the sluggish river. "Now, if someone will just take care of the baby," suggested Susie's mother as they unloaded the lunch baskets, "I'll help the other ladies get dinner ready and you can have lunch just that much sooner." "Oh, let me, Mrs. McKittrick," cried Tabitha, who had wished all the morning that she had been in the rig with the McKittrick family so she might hold the little dimpled, laughing mite, who made friends with everyone and was worshipped by all the children, but remained unspoiled in spite of the attentions showered upon him by this admiring court. "Well, all right, Tabitha. Watch him and see that he doesn't roll down the bank or put anything in his mouth. He's into everything." "What's his name?" "He hasn't any yet. We can't find one pretty enough for him." "And he is 'most a year old!" "Yes, he will be a year next month, but he is the first boy in a family of four girls, and we can't decide what to call him, so he has no name yet. You might think up some pretty ones to suggest. We've exhausted everyone else's lists." She laughed as she spoke, but Tabitha thought she was thoroughly in earnest, and seizing the baby, she ran away to ponder over the vital question of pretty names, confident of finding one that would suit the over-particular parents. "I'd like to call him Dionysius if he was mine," she confided to Carrie, who soon joined her in her self-appointed task of nursemaid, for the two girls were seldom apart; "but--after--that time--well, he might not like it when he grew up. I am afraid it might be unlucky." "Frederick is a pretty name," ventured Carrie. "That's papa's." "Yes, that's not bad, but I reckon Mrs. McKittrick has heard of it already, for I know lots of people called that. She wants something real pretty. I know how it is, for my name is so perfectly horrid that sometimes it seems as if I can't endure it. I wouldn't want to pick out a name that this darling baby would hate when he grew up. It must be something _awfully_ nice. How do you think she would like Rosslyn? I have liked that name ever since I heard it and was always sorry I could not stay in Ferndale and get acquainted with the boy it belonged to, and his cousin Rosalie."