'Have you a headache, Robert?' asked Emily, a few evenings before
Whit-Sunday, 'you have not spoken three words this evening.'
'Not at all, thank you,' said Mr. Devereux, smiling, 'you need not
think to make me your victim, now you have no Claude to nurse.'
'Then if it is not bodily, it is mental,' said Lily.
'I am in a difficulty about the christening of Mrs. Naylor's child.'
'Naylor the blacksmith?' said Jane. 'I thought it was high time for
it to be christened. It must be six weeks old.'
'Is it not to be on Whit-Sunday?' said Lily, disconsolately.
'Oh no! Mrs. Naylor will not hear of bringing the child on a Sunday,
and I could hardly make her think it possible to bring it on Whit-
Tuesday.'
'Why did you not insist?' said Lily.
'Perhaps I might, if there was no other holy day at hand, or if there
was not another difficulty, a point on which I cannot give way.'
'Oh! the godfathers and godmothers,' said Lily, 'does she want that
charming brother of hers, Edward Gage?'
'Yes, and what is worse, Edward Gage's dissenting wife, and Dick
Rodd, who shows less sense of religion than any one in the parish,
and has never been confirmed.
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