if he gives nothing else to the child but a name? A child might almost as well not be christened at all. And so who shall we have? What do you say?
"Anybody?
"Aren't you ashamed of yourself, Caudle? Don't you think something will happen to you, to talk in that way? I don't know where you pick up such principles. I'm thinking who there is among our acquaintance who can do the most for the blessed creature, and you say,— 'Anybody!' Caudle, you're quite a heathen.
"There's Wagstaff. No chance of his ever marrying, and he's very fond of babies. He's plenty of money, Caudle; and I think he might be got. Babies, I know it—babies are his weak side. Wouldn't it be a blessed thing to find our dear child in his will? Why don't you speak? I declare, Caudle, you seem to care no more for the child than if it was a stranger's. People who can't love children more than you do, ought never to have 'em.
"You don't like Wagstaff?
"No more do I much; but what's that to do with it? People who've their families to provide for, mustn't think of their feelings. I don't like him; but then I'm a mother, and love my baby.
"You won't have Wagstaff, and that's flat?
"Ha, Caudle, you're like nobody else—not fit for this world, you're not.
"What do you think of Pugsby? I can't bear his wife; but that's nothing to do with it. I know my duty to my babe: I wish other people did. What do you say?
"Pugsby's a wicked fellow?
"Ha! that's like you—always giving people a bad
