He accepted the trust with greater gladness than he had felt about
anything that had happened to him for a long time; and on a balmy
morning in the last week of May he found himself standing by the font
of the old Saxon church at Milbrook where he had heard the solemn
words of the Burial Service read above Sir Godfrey Carmichael’s
coffin less than a year before. He took upon himself the custody of
the infant’s conscience in all good faith, and he felt that this
trust which his cousin had given to him made a new link between them.
The Grenvilles had come down from town to be present at the ceremony,
though neither husband nor wife was officially concerned in it. Mrs.
Grenville had seized the opportunity to bring Johnnie and Godolphin
to Dorsetshire for change of air. She had an idea that the Purbeck
air had a particularly revivifying effect upon them—like unto no
other air.
“I suppose that is because it is my native air,” she explained.
Mr. Grenville submitted to his nephew’s existence as a mysterious
dispensation of Providence, which it became him to endure with
gentleman-like fortitude, but he did not cease to regard a posthumous
infant as a solecism in nature and society.
“Your sister-in-law actually seems pleased with her baby,” he told
his wife, grumblingly, as he put on a frock coat in honour of the
approaching ceremony; “but it appears to me that a woman of refined
feeling would be impressed with a sense of incongruity—of indelicacy
even—in the idea of a child born such ages after the father’s death—a
sort of no-man’s-baby. And upon my word it is uncommonly hard upon
Thomas. With such a family as ours—five and the possibilities of the
future—it would have been a grand thing to have one well provided
for. As things stand now they must _all_ be paupers.”
* * * * *
Lord Cheriton was Theodore’s fellow-sponsor, and Lady Jane was
godmother, an office which filled the dear soul with rapture. She
held her grandchild throughout the service, except when she delivered
him gingerly to the priest, who, at one stage of the ceremony,
carried the new-made Christian half-way up the aisle, and, as it
were, flaunted him in the face of the scanty congregation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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