"You must name your flower," he told her; "and then you must exhibit it. Fortunately you are in time for the show in London."
"But I can't go to London," Julia said; "it is out of the question for me to leave home even if I could afford the fare, which I cannot."
Joost answered there was no need; he could arrange everything for her. "I can take the daffodil to London with me," he said. "It must be lifted--you have a flower pot, then it must be tied with care, and it will travel quite safely."
"But," Julia objected; "if it is exhibited with my name, and you say my name as the grower must appear, your father will hear of it and then he will know that you gave me a bulb--it cannot be exhibited. I do not care about a certificate of merit or whatever one gets."
"It must be exhibited," Joost said; "as to my father, he knows already, I have told him; that does not stand in the way."
To this Julia had nothing to say; perhaps in her heart she was a little ashamed because she had suspected him of the half honesty of only telling what was necessary when it was necessary, that she herself was likely to have practised in his case.
"Now you must call your flower a name," he said, "as I called mine Vrouw Van Heigen."
But Joost would not have that. "That will not do; the blue daffodil is already a Van Heigen; there cannot be another, it will make confusion."
"Well, I'll call it the honest man, then; that will be you."
Joost did not like that either; he thought it very unsuitable. "Why not name it after"--he began; he had meant to say "your father," but recalling that gentleman, he changed it to--"some one of whom you are fond."
[Illustration: "'Now you must call your flower a name,' he said"]
Julia hesitated. "I like the honest man," she said; "but as you say it is not suitable, the blue daffodil is really the honest one, this is too mixed--I shall call it after Johnny; I am fond of him."
But Joost was romantic; it was only natural with the extreme and almost childish simplicity of his nature there should be some romance, and there was nothing to satisfy that sentiment in Mr. Gillat. "Johnny?" he said; "yes, but it is not very pretty; it does not suggest a beautiful flower. Why not call it after the heroine of some book or a friend or comrade? Perhaps"--Joost was only human--"he with whom you went walking on the Dunes."