Ellen had settled that matter. She had decided long before on the name of Moira, for Moira McCoy, the pretty, laughing, assistant head nurse, who had been the first to befriend her. But concerning this she also chose to keep her counsel for the present. Another thing troubled her mightily. “Are these--these people I’m going to live with Episcopalians?” He laughed. “I believe there’s a division in the family. Ach, these Christian distinctions! They split God up into small pieces like a pie, and each one takes a different slice. They are afraid to get indigestion from too much goodness, eh? But ‘Aunt Mathilda’--that is the sister-in-law--is Episcopalian. High church they call it. Oh, very high! It will suit you that way, I guess. And she is the boss. You’ll find that out.” High church. That would do very well. It was the serious question of her daughter’s christening that disturbed her. The day came at last to take their fearsome step into a new home. Ellen wept a little over her farewells, but on such a lovely morning she could not be sad very long. She felt so good, so well, and in the new clothes she had bought for this event she radiated unaccustomed health. “Look at you,” said the doctor. “I told you it would be good medicine. If your old friends could see you they wouldn’t know it was the same Ellen.” She blushed. She had never expected to leave the hospital so merry. In a few moments they were driving along in a new-fangled thing called a taxicab, and she had to hold the baby carefully to keep it from bumping. It was the first time she had ever ridden in an automobile, but her thoughts were too far ahead to concern themselves with the novelty. A year ago it would have been a great adventure. First of all she reflected: “When Moira is grown up she will love me, and we will do so many nice things together.” Then she thought, “Who knows, Moira may have a father some day, and never be the wiser.” The doctor had decided that she was to be known as Mrs. Williams at the Blaydons’. “Aunt Mathilda” herself had suggested this, and Ellen was willing enough to consent. But she accepted with greater reluctance his proposal of a gold band for her finger. The idea smacked of a deception that was too bold by far, a deception that involved higher powers than those of earthly authority, in her mind. She felt almost a criminal whenever she looked at it.