“You mean you’d tell her——”
“No. Nobody’ll say a word to her about it. Don’t you know Martha well enough yet to understand that she won’t expect to be Henry’s godmother?”
“But she must.”
“No. If she did, she’d have spoken of it to me.”
“That does look like it a little,” he said with some relief; then frowned again. “But I want her to be the godmother; and she ought to be. Lena hasn’t any great friend of her own that she wants for it; and Martha’s the best friend I ever——”
“No, no,” his mother interrupted hurriedly. “It wouldn’t do, Dan.”
“But why?”
“Well——” she hesitated, sighed, and went on: “We all love Martha—except Lena. I’m afraid that’s reason enough. You must give it up.”
“I’m afraid so,” he agreed gloomily. “Oh, lordy!”
“Now, now! Martha knows you wanted her, and that’s all she’ll care about. She——” Mrs. Oliphant paused with the bothered air of one who fears to elaborate an indiscretion already committed. Then she continued nervously: “There was something else I wanted to speak to you about. Your father and I—we’ve been a little afraid——” She hesitated again.