The next day he appeared at the Doctor's house with Mr. Goodriche, and two persons understood to belong to that reverend gentleman's communion. The party were shut up in an apartment with the infant, and it may be presumed that the solemnity of baptism was administered to the unconscious being, thus strangely launched upon the world. When the priest and witnesses had retired, the strange gentleman informed Mr. Gray, that, as the lady had been pronounced unfit for travelling for several days, he was himself about to leave the neighbourhood, but would return thither in the space of ten days, when he hoped to find his companion able to leave it. “And by what name are we to call the child and mother?” “The infant's name is Richard.” “But it must have some sirname--so must the lady--She cannot reside in my house, yet be without a name.” “Call them by the name of your town here--Middlemas, I think it is?” “Yes, sir.” “Well, Mrs. Middlemas is the name of the mother, and Richard Middlemas of the child--and I am Matthew Middlemas, at your service. This,” he continued, “will provide Mrs. Middlemas in every thing she may wish to possess--or assist her in case of accidents.” With that he placed L100 in Mr. Gray's hand, who rather scrupled receiving it, saying, “He supposed the lady was qualified to be her own purse-bearer.” “The worst in the world, I assure you, Doctor,” replied the stranger. “If she wished to change that piece of paper, she would scarce know how many guineas she should receive for it. No, Mr. Gray, I assure you you will find Mrs. Middleton--Middlemas--what did I call her--as ignorant of the affairs of this world as any one you have met with in your practice: So you will please to be her treasurer and administrator for the time, as for a patient that is incapable to look after her own affairs.”