The child is a human being--not a fiddle in an orchestra!" And that's the way it went, Nurse said, until everybody was just about crazy.

Then somebody suggested "Mary." And Father said, very well, they might call me Mary; and Mother said certainly, she would consent to Mary, only she should pronounce it Marie.

And so it was settled.
Father called me Mary, and Mother called me Marie.

And right away everybody else began to call me Mary Marie.

And that's the way it's been ever since.
Of course, when you stop to think of it, it's sort of queer and funny, though naturally I didn't think of it, growing up with it as I did, and always having it, until suddenly one day it occurred to me that none of the other girls had two names, one for their father, and one for their mother to call them by.