a child." Then turning to Mrs. Paisley,
who had just entered the room, he said,--

"Take and wash and clothe that little boy; and when he is nicely
dressed, bring him in to speak to his cousin."

"Come, my little man," said the old lady, gently shaking the juvenile
stranger. "Come, wake up. You have slept long enough. Come this way with
me."

"Whose clothes are you going to put upon him?" demanded Godfrey.

"Why in course, Master Godfrey, you will lend him some of yours?"

"Well, if I do, remember, Paisley, you are not to take my best."

During this colloquy, Anthony had gradually woke up, and turning from
one strange face to another, he lost all his former confidence, and
began to cry. Paisley, who was really interested in the child, kindly
wiped away his tears with the corner of her white apron, and gently led
the weeper from the room.

While performing for him the long and painful ablutions which his
condition required, Mrs. Paisley was astonished at his patience. "Why,
Master Godfrey would have roared and kicked, like a mad thing that he
is, if I had taken half the liberty with him," said the dame to herself.
"Well, well, the little fellow seems to have a good temper of his own.
Now you have got a clean face, my little man, let me look at you, and
see what you are like."

She turned him round and round, took off her spectacles, carefully wiped
them, and re-adjusting them upon her nose, looked at the child with as
much astonishment as if he had been some rare creature that had never
before been exhibited in a Christian land.

"Mercy on me! but the likeness is truly wonderful--his very image; all
but the dark eye; and that he may have got from the mother, as Master
Godfrey got his. I don't like to form hard thoughts of my master; but
this is strange.--Mr. Glen!" and she rose hastily, and opened a door
that led from her own little sanctuary into the servants' hall--"please
to step in here for a moment."

"What's your pleasure, Mistress Paisley?" said the butler, a rosy,
portly, good-natured man, of the regular John Bull breed, who, in
snow-white trowsers, and blue-striped linen jacket, and a shirt adorned
with a large frill (frills were then in fashion), strutted into the
room. "Mistress Paisley, ma'arm, vot are your commands?"

"Oh, Mr. Glen," said the housekeeper, simpering, "I never command my
equals--I leave my betters to do that. I wanted you just to look at this
child."

"Look at him--vhy, vot's th