llage had come to see, for this
christening was felt to be one of more than common interest, and while
the service went on there was not one inattentive ear.

Foremost stood Mrs Greenways, her white handkerchief displayed for
immediate use, and the expression in her face struggling between real
compassion and an eager desire to lose nothing that was passing;
presently she craned her neck forward a little, for an important point
was reached--

"Name this child," said the rector.

There was such deep silence in the church that the lowest whisper would
have been audible, and Mrs Leigh's voice was heard distinctly in the
farthest corner, when she answered "Lilac."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Not that it matters," said Mrs Greenways on her way home afterwards,
"what they call the poor little thing--Lilac White, or White Lilac, or
what you will, for she'll never rear it, never. It'll follow its father
before we're any of us much older. You mark my words, Greenways: I'm
not the woman to discourage Mary White by naming it to her now she's so
deep in trouble, but you mark my words, she'll _never_ rear that child."

CHAPTER TWO.

THE COUSINS.

"For the apparel oft proclaims the man."--Shakespeare.

But Mrs Greenways was wrong. Twelve more springs came and went, cold
winds blew round the cottage on the hill, winter snow covered it, summer
sun blazed down on its unsheltered roof, but the small blossom within
grew and flourished. A weak tender-looking little plant at first, but
gathering strength with the years until it became hardy and bold, fit to
face rough weather as well as to smile in the sunshine.

It was twelve years since James White's death, twelve years since he had
brought the bunch of lilac from Cuddingham which had given his little
daughter her name--that name which had once sounded so strangely in Mrs
White's ears. It had come to mean so much to her now, so many memories
of the past, so much sweetness in the present, that she would not have
changed it for the world, and indeed no one questioned its fitness, for
as time went on it seemed to belong naturally to the child; it was even
made more expressive by putting the surname first, so that she was often
called "White Lilac."

For the distinguishing character of her face was its whiteness--"A
wonderful white skin", as her mother had said, which did not tan, or
freckle, or flush with heat, and which