estions and remarks
often obliged Reginald to bring his own strong intellect to bear on
them, they arose from no spirit of antagonism, but were the natural
outcome of a thoughtful, inquiring mind. Sometimes, however, Wikkey was
too tired for talking, and could only lie still and listen while
Lawrence and the curate conversed, the expression of his eyes, as they
passed from one to another, showing that he understood far more than
might have been expected. One evening, in the middle of March, after he
had been carried up-stairs, the cousins sat talking over their charge.

"I have been considering about his baptism," Reginald said.

"His baptism! Do you think he hasn't been christened?"

"No, I don't think so," returned the other, thoughtfully. "I cannot
bring myself to believe that we have been working on unconsecrated soil;
but still we do not know. Of course I could baptize him hypothetically,
but I should like to know the truth."

"Baptize him _how_?" Lawrence asked, with a frown of perplexity.

"Hypothetically. Don't be alarmed, it isn't a new fad of mine: it means
baptizing on the _supposition_ that there has been no previous baptism;
for, you know, our Church does not allow it to be done twice. I wonder
if anything could be learnt by going down to the place named in the
book?"

"Cranbury! I looked in Bradshaw for it, and it seems to be a small place
about an hour and a half from Euston Station; I might find a day to run
down, though I don't quite see when; and how if I were to find a heap of
relations wanting the boy? I could not spare him now, you know."

"Scarcely likely. Wikkey has evidently never seen a relation for, say,
ten years, or he would recollect it, and it is hardly probable that any
one will be anxious to take a boy in his state whom they have not seen
for ten years. Besides, he couldn't well be moved now."

"No, he couldn't; and I sincerely hope that no affectionate relatives
will want to come and see him here; that would be a most awful nuisance.
What do you think of a tearful grandmother haunting the place?"

"The idea is oppressive, certainly, but I do not think you need fear it
much, and you have established a pretty fair right to do as you like
about the boy. Look here, Lawrence; supposing I were to run down on this
place; I believe I could spare a day better than you, and a breath of
fresh air would do me no harm."

"I shouldn't think it would," said Lawrence, looking at his cousin's