mage of you, and he seems to know it. Baby,
say 'Da-da.' There, he has put his mouth up, and his memory is so
wonderful! Oh, Caryl, what do you think of that--and the first time of
trying it by moonlight?"

"There is no time for this nonsense, Polly. He is a wonderful baby,
I dare say; and so is every baby, till he gets too old. You must obey
orders, and be off with him."

"Oh no! You are come to take us with you. There, I have covered his face
up, that he may not suppose you look cross at me. Oh, Caryl, you would
never leave him behind, even if you could do that to me. We are not
grand people, and you can put us anywhere, and now I am nearly as well
as ever. I have put up all his little things; it does not matter about
my own. I was never brought up to be idle, and I can earn my own living
anywhere; and it might be a real comfort for you, with the great people
going against you, to have somebody, not very grand, of course, but as
true to you as yourself, and belonging altogether to you. I know many
people who would give their eyes for such a baby."

"There is no time for this," Carne answered, sternly; "my arrangements
are made, and I cannot take you. I have no fault to find with you, but
argument is useless."

"Yes, I know that, Caryl; and I am sure that I never would attempt to
argue with you. You should have everything your own way, and I could
attend to so many things that no man ever does properly. I will be a
slave to you, and this little darling love you, and then you will feel
that you have two to love you, wherever you go, and whatever you do.
And if I spoke crossly when first I found out that--that I went away for
nothing with you, you must have forgiven me by this time, and I never
will remind you again of it; if I do, send me back to the place I belong
to. I belong to you now, Caryl, and so does he; and when we are away
from the people who know me, I shall be pleasant and cheerful again. I
was only two-and-twenty the day the boats came home last week, and they
used to say the young men jumped into the water as soon as they caught
sight of me. Try to be kind to me, and I shall be so happy that I shall
look almost as I used to do, when you said that the great ladies might
be grander, but none of them fit to look into my looking-glass. Dear
Caryl, I am ready; I don't care where it is, or what I may have to put
up with, so long as you will make room for your Polly, and your baby."

"I am not at all a hard