"No, he won't. I've fixed that. He'll never claim her again. To start with he doesn't know if she's in England, or Canada, or Grand Canary. I even changed the name he called her by. I called her Kate from the day I left him, and had her christened by that name in Sierra Leone on the off chance she hadn't been christened before. And to go on with, he gave me his word of honor that if I took her away, he'd never embarrass me by inquiring for her again. You see, he was living as a native, and the child was running about with the other pickaninnies in the village, and I guess I made him pretty well ashamed of himself by what I said. The mother's dead, you know." "Poof," said Mrs. Craven, "he promised you, did he? And what do you suppose the word of a man like that is worth?" (The late Craven had, it will be remembered, his strong failings.) "Ninety-nine beach combers out of a hundred will lie as soon as look at you," Godfrey owned. "This one is the exception. He will keep his word, at any rate on this matter. He's just as proud as a king." "Between drinks," suggested the widow. "He's more objectionably proud drunk than sober. He always quotes Latin at one when he's full, and then says, 'Ah, but you've not been to school anywhere, so you'll not understand that.' You needn't be frightened he'll call here, Jane. Just remember I'm a man with a taste for ease myself. If I'd thought there was the smallest chance of being bothered with him, I shouldn't have saddled myself with the kid." "Well," said Mrs. Craven, "as you have brought her, I suppose we must do the best we can for her. The average orphanage doesn't take them till they are six, but I suppose if we hunt round we can find some sort of institution which will accept three-year-olds." "Orphanage, h'm. You see, Jane, I was thinking we might keep her ourselves. I am sure we could look after her." "I object to the word 'we,'" said Mrs. Craven dryly. "Oh, I suppose most of the work would fall on your shoulders." "I am sure of it." "Come along, old lady, don't you think you can manage it? Kitty isn't a bad sort of kid. Y'know, I saw a goodish deal of her on the steamer coming home." "I thought you gave her in charge of a steward?" "I never told you that." Mrs. Craven laughed. "You see, I know your little ways--'Steward, here's a girl for you. If you nursery-maid the kid nicely till we get to Liverpool, and don't let me see more of her than I want, and don't let her come in and prattle when I'm playing whist with Captain Image, there'll be another quid for you when we land. After that my sister will take her over, and she won't want a tip at all.'" "H'm," said Godfrey, "now, diamonds aren't in your line." "I wouldn't be seen with one. I'll take a brown cloth gown, please." "Shall I order it?" "No, you can pay the bill." "Right-o. Then you will take Kitty and bring her up here?"