“The grand wedding pit aff again; the fine bridegroom ganging aff in a jiffey; this young, bonny leddy and her bairn made so muckle iv by the whole family. But it’s na gude to speer questions. The minister will na speak; the doctor will na speak; the vera serving lads and lasses will na speak, although on ordinary occasions they’re a’ unco fond o’ clackin their clavers. But we shall hear, gude man! we shall hear! Secrets like yon canna be kept, e’en gif they be stappit up in a bottle.” “Gudewife, ye’ll do weel to gie your attention to your ain proper business and no meddle wi’ that whilk dinna concern you. The auld general pit us here to keep the gate, and no to speer questions into his preevate affairs. And though the situation is na sick a gude ane, it might be waur. Sae we’ll behoove to gie na offence wi’ meddling,” said Andy, as he sat down and opened his big Bible to read. Meanwhile the Lyon family went on to church, which they entered just as the organ had ceased playing and the minister was opening his book. It was not until after the last lesson of the morning service was over that the announcement was made: “All persons having children present for baptism will now bring them forward.” Our whole party left their pew and proceeded to the front. General Lyon, as senior sponsor, took the babe in his arms and presented him to the minister. Dick as junior sponsor stood by. Anna was sole godmother. And amid the customary prayers, promises, and benedictions, the child received the time-honored name of Leonard Lyon. On their way home, the whole party congratulated each other with much affection and cheerfulness. But withal, Dick, riding along slowly by the side of the carriage, was visited with some very serious reflections. He felt the great moral and religious responsibility of the office he had undertaken. And thus he communed with himself: “General Lyon is aged and cannot be expected to live very much longer. Anna is a woman. On me must devolve the duty of looking after that boy. Good Heavens. However did they come to think of making such a good for nothing dog as I am godfather to that innocent baby? It is enough to make my hair stand on end to think of it. The fact is, I must strike a light and look about myself. I must, I positively must and will, thoroughly mend my ways and reform my life! not only for Anna’s sake—who knows me already, and takes me for better for worse with her eyes wide open—but for this innocent babe’s sake, upon whom, without his knowledge or consent, they have thrust me for a godfather! No more gambling, no more drinking, no more carousing with scamps, and squandering of money, Dick, my boy! Remember that you are godfather to Master Leonard Lyon, and responsible for his moral and religious education. And you must be equal to the occasion and true to the trust.” So profound were Dick’s cogitations that he found himself at Old Lyon Hall before he was conscious of the fact.