‘Mayhap you might come to meet us—you think little of such a walk,’ suggested Emma. ‘No!’ said Sebastian curtly. Emma had never seen him so cross before. Her eyes filled with tears, and she withdrew her hand from his shoulder, and turned away. ‘I fear I have displeased you, sir!’ she said, feeling a sudden inclination to desert this young man, who could behave so strangely to her one short week after their marriage. But the next moment she forgave him; for Sebastian, at the tearful sound of her voice, jumped up and came over to where she stood, holding out his hands to her. ‘Pardon me, Emma; ’tis no fault of yours, but a fancy of my own. I never pass that way an I can help it, Emma—that’s all.’ ‘Why——!’ began stupid Emma; but she dried her tears. ‘Because Anne Champion lived there, and there I saw her die, and I’m like to weep tears of blood when I pass by that way,’ said Sebastian, who, whatever he was, would have no secrets from his wife, in spite of Dr. Barrington’s wisdom. If Emma had been a crafty woman she would have discontinued her attendance at St. Mary Minories after this; but she was not, and instead, she went there weekly, and very frequently she would say, ‘Sebastian, if so be that you cannot worship along with me, why do you not go to some other church?’ And Sebastian scarcely knew whether to laugh more at her singular lack of tact or to be provoked by it. After this sort of fashion time went on; and then, whatever little differences there may have been between the Shepleys, were forgotten for a time in the wonderfully uniting interest which came to them with the birth of their daughter. All Emma’s first admiration for Sebastian returned to her, when she saw how delightfully he played the part of a father. And indeed, to see him with this enchanting milky-skinned baby in his arms was a sight to please any heart; they looked so wholly incongruous. ‘Lord! to think of your fathering such a dainty piece of goods, doctor!’ exclaimed Emma’s pet aversion, the Sergeant, at sight of Sebastian and his tiny daughter. Emma was too proud and pleased at the moment to find fault with the speech, so, lifting little Miss Shepley from her husband’s arms, she brought her to be kissed by the Sergeant. ‘She is very beautiful,’ said the proud mother in a conclusive manner, after the salute had been very unwillingly given. ‘And we intend to name her Caroline, after my mother.’ So let this be my reader’s first introduction to Caroline Shepley. CHAPTER XII