"Why not do the thing in style while we're about it. What do you say to asking young Mr Cyril to be godfather?" If Tom Morrison had looked up then he would have been startled at the livid look in his young wife's face, but he was too intent upon his tea, and Polly recovered herself and said-- "Oh, no, dear, that would not do, and the young ladies would not like it. Look here, Tom." Polly tripped to a basket, from which she produced a white cloak and hood, trimmed with swan's-down; and these she held up before her husband, flushed and excited, as, in her girlish way, she wondered whether he would like them. Budge left off eating, and wished for a white dress on the spot, trimmed with silk braid, like that. "Say," said Tom, thickly, speaking with his mouth fall, "they're fine, arn't they?--cost a lot o' money." "No," said Polly, gleefully, "they cost nothing, Tom. Miss Julia made me a present of the stuff, and I made them." "Did you, though?" he said, looking at her little fingers, admiringly. "You're a clever girl, Polly; but I often wonder how it was you came to take up with a rough chap like me." Polly looked up in his steady, honest eyes, and rested one hand upon his, and gazed lovingly at him, as he went on-- "My old woman said it was because I'd got a cottage, and an acre of land of my own." "Did she say so, Tom?" "Yes," he said, taking her hand, patting it, and gazing up in the pretty rustic face he called his own; "but I told her you were a silly little girl, who would have me if I'd got a cottage and an acre less than nothing to call my own." "And you told the truth, Tom, dear," she whispered. "Tom, you make me so happy in believing in me like this." "Tut, tut, my girl. I'm not clever; but I knew you." "And married me without anything, only enough to buy my wedding dress and a little furniture." "D'yer call that nothing?" said the hearty, Saxon-faced young fellow, pointing to the baby; "because I don't. And I say, Polly, dear," he whispered, archly, "perhaps that's only the thin end of the wedge." "Hush, Tom, for shame!" she said, trying to frown, and pointing to Budge; while he took a tremendous bite of bread and bacon, and chuckled hugely at his joke. "The old lady used to have it that you were too fine for me, Polly, and would have been setting your cap at one of the young gentlemen at the rectory when you was abroad with them." "Tom!" she panted, as his words seemed to stab her, and she ran out of the room. "Why, Polly, Polly," he cried, following her and holding her to his breast, "what a touchy little thing thou art since baby came! Why, as if I didn't know that ever since you were so high you were my little sweetheart, and liked great rough me better than the finest gentleman as ever walked. There, there, there! I was a great lout to talk like that to thee. Come, wipe thy eyes." "I can't bear it, Tom, if you talk like that," she sobbed, smiling at him through her tears. "There, it's all over now."