Yet the baby was no monster. It did not come
into the world with two heads, as some babies are
said to have done; it was formed as babies are in
general; was on the whole a thriving baby, a fine baby.
Nevertheless, its aspect awed the father as already
it had awed the nurse. The creature looked so
unutterably solemn. It fixed its eyes upon Sir
Peter with a melancholy reproachful stare; its lips
were compressed and drawn downward as if discontentedly
meditating its future destinies. The nurse declared
in a frightened whisper that it had uttered no cry
on facing the light. It had taken possession
of its cradle in all the dignity of silent sorrow.
A more saddened and a more thoughtful countenance
a human being could not exhibit if he were leaving
the world instead of entering it.
“Hem!” said Sir Peter to himself on regaining
the solitude of his library; “a philosopher
who contributes a new inhabitant to this vale of tears
takes upon himself very anxious responsibilities—”
At that moment the joy-bells rang out from the neighbouring
church tower, the summer sun shone into the windows,
the bees hummed among the flowers on the lawn.
Sir Peter roused himself and looked forth, “After
all,” said he, cheerily, “the vale of tears
is not without a smile.”
A family council was held at Exmundham Hall to
deliberate on the name by which this remarkable infant
should be admitted into the Christian community.
The junior branches of that ancient house consisted,
first, of the obnoxious heir-at-law—a Scotch
branch named Chillingly Gordon. He was the widowed
father of one son, now of the age of three, and happily
unconscious of the injury inflicted on his future
prospects by the advent of the new-born, which could
not be truthfully said of his Caledonian father.
Mr. Chillingly Gordon was one of those men who get
on in the world with out our being able to discover
why. His parents died in his infancy and left
him nothing; but the family interest procured him
an admission into the Charterhouse School, at which
illustrious academy he obtained no remarkable distinction.
Nevertheless, as soon as he left it the State took
him under its special care, and appointed him to a
clerkship in a public office. From that moment
he continued to get on in the world, and was now a
Commissioner of Customs, with a salary of L1500 a year.
As soon as he had been thus enabled to maintain a
wife, he selected a wife who assisted to maintain
himself. She was an Irish peer’s widow,
with a jointure of L2000 a year.
