How old would you suppose your baby to be, Mary? Would it not be strange if it turned out to be Jack's little daughter?' 'We saw in the _Witness_ that Lord Briarhill and Mrs. Steele had gone to Inverlyon and claimed their daughter-in-law and took the body back with them to Edinburgh; and we advertised in the Witness that we had picked up an infant apparently washed ashore from the wreck, but no one took any notice, and we have not had a single enquiry.' 'It might still be quite possible, nevertheless, that your little foundling is the Steeles' lost baby. The old judge was bearing the loss of his daughter-in-law, I understand, with very proper resignation. He had never seen her, so that there was no room for personal grief or deep feeling, beyond what the melancholy manner of her death must necessarily call forth, and sympathy for his son. But the next mail brought letters which mentioned the birth of the child, and its having accompanied its mother on the homeward voyage, and then they say the poor old man was completely overcome--took to his bed--and the old lady sat beside him and cried by the hour. As for Jack, he was like one out of his mind when they told him, and he has been very ill since. His oldest friends dare scarcely intrude on him yet; he is so badly cut up. By and bye he will want a change, and I have asked him to come to Inchbracken for a few weeks.' 'And do you think then that he ought to be told about our little waif! I quite dread to tell any one about it now lest he should claim it, and I cannot bear to think of losing our pretty plaything.' 'Surely he ought to be told, if there is the smallest possibility of its being his own child; and if you like, Roderick, I will relieve you of that duty. In your present health you will probably not be sorry to avoid unnecessary letter-writing.' Roderick nodded. 'I fear, Captain Drysdale,' interrupted the Laird, 'that is to say if a stranger can judge correctly in the matter, you will find it rather a difficult piece of news to break to this Major Steele. Do you think the probability of the child being his is sufficiently strong to justify you in subjecting him to the dreadful disappointment that would follow, if it proves not to be his after all? It appears to me scarcely warrantable to raise hopes which, if unfounded, will cause a disappointment more cruel than was the original loss. If I might suggest, I would urge very great caution.' 'I see what you mean, Mr. Sangster, but how are we to avoid it? Nobody in this country has ever seen the child or could identify it but himself, and surely it is due both to him and the child that he should be informed of its history, if there be even the slightest possibility of his being its father.'