It would be impossible to say whether father or mother was more happy and proud over the advent of this little girl, but there could be no doubt that the mother was the more peremptory and authoritative concerning it. If Mrs. Lindsay had been queen of the household before, she was empress now, and that in her own right. "You are only prince consort, John," she remarked to her husband, when he suggested that the child might be baptized in the house by the resident Protestant minister. "I am regnant. My daughter may be baptized by a Protestant minister, and welcome, if--but she is going to be baptized in San Marco, and Aurora Coronari is to be her godmother and Prince P---- her godfather. If you can reconcile that with your minister, do so." The prince consort bowed his head meekly. "I have no particular objection that a priest should baptize her," he said. "I am very much pleased to have the prince and Aurora stand sponsors for her. Of course it doesn't make any difference what they promise for her now. She will be sure to do as she pleases when she grows up,--if she should turn out to be like her mother." The baptism took place on the first day of May, in the morning; and the company invited to assist were to return to Palazzo Pesaro to breakfast in honor of the event. Mrs. Lindsay had her gondola--the baby's gondola _pro tem._.--decorated for the occasion. An immense white umbrella, lined with gold-colored silk, was fixed to cover the seats, and the whole gondola was lined and carpeted with white and pale blue. A blue fringe fell over the edge almost to the water, and bouquets of flowers were bespoken. Not only this: she had made a pact with Aurora, who declared that a girl baptized in the month of May should have Mary for one of her names. Mrs. Lindsay would include the name if Aurora would attend the ceremony dressed like the Madonna of an ancient picture of hers, she herself to furnish the dress; and Aurora consented. This Madonna on a sparkling gold ground had a long veil of dim blue falling over her head and shoulders, and wore a dress of dull-red wool with faint golden reflection. It was a Raphael dress, and had a band of fine gold embroidery across the neck and round the wrists. The dress came home the evening before, and was tried on and displayed to the family, with whom was Mr. Edward Churchill. "There! wasn't I right?" exclaimed Mrs. Lindsay in triumph. "Suppose we should scrape out the Madonna and have Aurora painted in her place," Mr. Lindsay proposed, with perfect seriousness. "The Madonna is an antiquity," his wife said, with dignity. "But her eyes are turned like a Chinese's," the gentleman persisted. "And her expression is cross." "I wouldn't do it for the world," Aurora declared. "I feel almost wicked in assuming her dress." "Well," Mr. Lindsay sighed. "Only don't assume her squint, and I think you will be forgiven the clothes."