is throat
and his eyes were misty.

"She's here at last," he murmured thankfully; "heaven be praised for
that!"

Of course you understand that Lawrence had been hoping for a girl; so
had his wife. They had planned to call her Mary, after her mother, the
quondam belle of the Northern Neck. Grandfather Joseph Ball, late of
Epping Forest, was to be her godfather, and Colonel Bradford Custis of
Jamestown had promised to grace the christening with his imposing
presence.

"Well, you can come in," said Miss Bettie, with much condescension, and
in all humility Lawrence did go in.

Dr. Parley was quite as solemn and impressive as ever. He occupied the
great chair near the chimney-place, and he still held the gold head of
his everlasting cane close to his nose.

"Well, Mary," said Lawrence, with an inquiring, yearning glance. Mary
was very pale, but she smiled sweetly.

"Lawrence, it's a boy," said Mary.

Oh, what a grievous disappointment that was! After all the hopes, the
talk, the preparations, the plans--a boy! What would Grandfather Ball,
late of Epping Forest, say? What would come of the grand christening
that was to be graced by the imposing presence of Colonel Bradford
Custis of Jamestown? How the Jeffersons and Randolphs and Masons and
Pages and Slaughters and Carters and Ayletts and Henrys _would_ gossip
and chuckle, and how he--Lawrence--_would_ be held up to the scorn and
the derision of the facetious yeomen of Westmoreland! It was simply
terrible.

And just then, too, Lawrence's vexation was increased by a gloomy
report from the four worthy dames down-stairs--viz., Mistress Carter,
Mistress Fairfax, Miss Dorcas Culpeper, spinster, and Aunt Lizzie, the
nurse. These inquiring creatures had been casting the new-born babe's
horoscope through the medium of tea grounds in their blue-china cups,
and each agreed that the child's future was full of shame, crime,
disgrace, and other equally unpleasant features.

"Now that it's a boy," said Lawrence, ruefully, "I 'm willing to
believe almost anything. It would n't surprise me at all if he wound
up on the gallows!"

But Mary, cherishing the puffy, fuzzy, red-faced little waif in her
bosom, said to him, softly: "No matter _what_ the _others_ say, my
darling; _I_ bid you welcome, and, by God's grace, my love and prayers
shall make you good and great."

And it was even so. Mary's love and prayers _did_ make a good and
great man of that unwelcome child, a