s, but just to write to Hester as
kindly as you can, saying I don't mean to be godfather any more. It will
be a good excuse in regard to all future babies.' Mrs. Robert was a good
wife and did as she was bid. She worded her refusal as cautiously as she
could, and,--on that occasion,--asked her husband no further question.

The prayer that was addressed to the lady of Puritan Grange became the
subject of much debate of great consideration, and I may say also of
lengthened prayer. To Mrs. Bolton this position of godmother implied
much of the old sacred responsibility which was formerly attached to it,
and which Robert Bolton, like other godfathers and godmothers of the
day, had altogether ignored. She had been already partly brought round,
nearly persuaded, in regard to the acceptance of John Caldigate as her
son-in-law. It did not occur to her to do other than hate him. How was
it possible that such a woman should do other than hate the man who had
altogether got the better of her as to the very marrow of her life, the
very apple of her eye? But she was alive to her duty towards her
daughter; and when she was told that the man was honest in his dealings,
well-to-do in the world, a professing Christian who was constant in his
parish church, she did not know how to maintain her opinion, that in
spite of all this, he was an unregenerate castaway. Therefore, although
she was determined still to hate him, she had almost made up her mind to
enter his house. With these ideas she wrote a long letter to Hester, in
which she promised to have herself taken out to Folking in order that
she might be present as godmother at the baby's baptism. She would lunch
at Folking, but must return to Chesterton before dinner. Even this was a
great thing gained.

Then it was arranged that Daniel Bolton should stand as second godfather
in place of his brother Robert.

Chapter XXVI

A Stranger in Cambridge

'I am sorry you will not come out to us to-morrow.' On the day before
the christening, which was at last fixed for a certain Tuesday in the
middle of February, John Caldigate went into Cambridge, and at once
called upon the attorney at his office. This he did partly instigated
by his own feelings, and partly in compliance with his wife's wishes.
Before that letter had come he and his brother-in-law had been fast
friends; and now, though for a day or two he had been angry with what he
had thought to be unjustifiable interference, h