or two, so's he
shall have a bit start of his lady."

"Now, you'm fulin me! An' I caan't stay no more whether or no, 'cause I
was promised to see Phoebe an' my son in the arternoon. Us be gwaine to
call un Vincent William Blanchard, arter you an' me, Miller; an' if it
had been a gal, us meant to call un arter mother; an' I do thank God
'bout the wee bwoy in all solemn soberness, 'cause 'tis the fust real
gude thing as have falled to us since the gwaine of poor Chris. 'Twill
be a joy to my mother an' a gude gran'son to you, I hope."

"Go home, go home," said Mr. Lyddon. "Get along with 'e this minute, an'
tell your wife I'm greatly pleased, an' shall come to see her mighty
soon. Let us knaw every day how she fares--an'--an'--I'm glad as you
called the laddie arter me. 'Twas a seemly thought."

Will departed, and his mind roamed over various splendid futures for his
baby. Already he saw it a tall, straight, splendid man, not a hair
shorter than his own six feet two inches. He hoped that it would possess
his natural wisdom, augmented by Phoebe's marvellous management of
figures and accounts. He also desired for it a measure of his mother's
calm and stately self-possession before the problems of life, and he had
no objection that his son should reflect Miller Lyddon's many and
amiable virtues.

He returned home, and his mother presently bid him come to see Phoebe.
Then a sudden nervousness overtook Will, tough though he was. The door
shut, and husband and wife were alone together, for Damaris disappeared.
But where were all those great and splendid pictures of the future?
Vanished, vanished in a mist. Will's breast heaved; he saw Phoebe's
star-bright eyes peeping at him, and he touched the treasure beside
her--oh, so small it was!

He bent his head low over them, kissed his wife shyly, and peeped with
proper timidity under the flannel.

"Look, look, Will, dearie! Did 'e ever see aught like un? An' come
evenin', he 'm gwaine to have his fust li'l drink!"

CHAPTER II

THE KNIGHT OF FORLORN HOPES

The child brought all a child should bring to Newtake, though it could
not hide the fact that Will Blanchard drifted daily a little nearer to
the end of his resources. But occasional success still flattered his
ambition, and he worked hard and honestly. In this respect at least the
man proved various fears unfounded, yet the result of his work rarely
took shape of sovereigns. He marvelled at the extraordinary stea