"Did he make no provision for this child?"

"I do not know; he said something about it, and he wrote something on a

paper; but indeed I do not think he knew what he was about. He was as

nearly stark mad as ever you saw a man; and, anyway, he went, off

without leaving anything but that bit of paper; and it is but right for

me to say, sir, that I would not have taken anything from him on behalf

of the child. If the poor boy cannot have his father's family name he

shall not have anything else from him with my consent! Those are my

principles, Mr. Wynne! I can work for Nora's orphan boy just as I worked

for my mother's orphan girl, which was Nora, herself, sir."

"Perhaps you are right, Hannah. But where is that paper. I should much

like to see it," said the minister.

"The paper he wrote and left, sir?"

"Yes; show it to me."

"Lord bless your soul, sir, it wasn't of no account; it was the least

little scrap, with about three lines wrote on it; I didn't take any care

of it. Heavens knows that I had other things to think of than that. But

I will try to find it if you wish to look at it," said Hannah, rising.

Her search of course was vain, and after turning up everything in the

house to no purpose she came back to the parson, and said: "I dare say it is swept away or burnt up; but, anyway, it isn't worth

troubling one's self about it."

"I think differently, Hannah; and I would advise you to search, and make

inquiry, and try your best to find it. And if you do so, just put it

away in a very safe place until you can show it to me. And now good-by,

my girl; trust in the Lord, and keep up your heart," said the minister,

taking his hat and stick to depart.

When Mr. Wynne had gone Reuben Gray, who had been walking about behind

the cottage, came in and said: "Hannah, my dear, I have got something very particular to say to you;

but I feel as this is no time to say it exactly, so I only want to ask

you when I may come and have a talk with you, Hannah."

"Any time, Reuben; next Sunday, if you like."

"Very well, my dear; next Sunday it shall be! God bless you, Hannah; and

God bless the poor boy, too. I mean to adopt that child, Hannah, and

cowhide his father within an inch of his life, if ever I find him out!"




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