"Where am I?

O vanity,

We are not what we deem,

The sins that hold my heart in thrall,

They are more real than all."--Rev. I. WILLIAMS.

As the uncle and nephew came out of church, and approached the yew-tree

gate, Rachel came swiftly to meet them. "Oh, Alick! oh, uncle!" she

said breathlessly. "Bessie says she is shocked to have turned your house

upside down, but we could not go any further. And her baby is born!"

Then in answer to exclamations, half-dismayed, half-wondering, "Yes, it

is all right, so Nurse Jones says. I could not send to you, for we

had to send everywhere at once. Mr. Harvey was not at home, and we

telegraphed to London, but no one has come yet, and now I have just

written a note to Lord Keith with the news of his son and heir. And,

uncle, she has set her heart on your baptizing him directly."

There was some demur, for though the child had made so sudden a rush

into the world, there seemed to be no ground for immediate alarm; and

Mr. Clare being always at hand, did not think it expedient to give the

name without knowing the father's wishes with regard to that hereditary

Alexander which had been borne by the dead son of the first marriage.

A message, however, came down to hasten him, and when--as he had often

before done in cottages--he demanded of Nurse Jones whether private

baptism were immediately necessary, she allowed that she saw no pressing

danger, but added, "that the lady was in a way about it," and this

both Rachel and her maid strongly corroborated. Rachel's maid was

an experienced person, whom Mrs. Curtis had selected with a view to

Rachel's weak state at the time of her marriage, and she showed herself

anxious for anything that might abate Lady Keith's excitement, to which

they at length yielded, feeling that resistance might be dangerous

to her. She further insisted that the rite should be performed in her

presence; nor was she satisfied when Rachel had brought in her uncle,

but insisted on likewise calling in her brother, who vaguely anxious,

and fully conscious of the small size of the room, had remained

down-stairs.

Mr. Clare always baptized his infant parishioners, and no one was

anxious about his manner of handling the little one, the touch of whose

garments might be familiar, as being no other than his own parish baby

linen. He could do no otherwise than give the child the name reiterated

by the mother, in weak but impatient accents, "Alexander Clare," her

brother's own name, and when the short service was concluded, she called

out triumphantly, "Make Alick kiss him, Rachel, and do homage to his

young chieftain."

They obeyed her, as she lay watching them, and a very pretty sight she

was with her dark hair lying round her, a rosy colour on her cheeks,

and light in her eyes; but Mr. Clare thought both her touch and voice

feverish, and entreated Rachel not to let her talk. Indeed Alick longed

to take Rachel away, but this was not at present feasible, since her

maid was occupied with the infant, and Nurse Jones was so entirely

a cottage practitioner that she was scarcely an available attendant

elsewhere. Bessie herself would by no means have parted with

her sister-in-law, nor was it possible to reduce her to silence.

"Alexander!" she said joyfully, "I always promised my child that he

should not have a stupid second son's name. I had a right to my own

father's and brother's name, and now it can't be altered," then catching

a shade of disapproval upon Rachel's face, "not that I would have

hurried it on if I had not thought it right, poor little fellow, but now

I trust he will do nicely, and I do think we have managed it all with

less trouble than might have been expected."




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