But Sophy’s words would recur, and weigh on her painfully.
CHAPTER XI.
The summer had just begun, when notice was given that a Confirmation would take place in the autumn; and Lucy’s name was one of the first sent in to Mr. Dusautoy. His plan was to collect his candidates in weekly classes of a few at a time, and likewise to see as much as he could of them in private.
‘Oh! mamma!’ exclaimed Lucy, returning from her first class, ‘Mr. Dusautoy has given us each a paper, where we are to set down our christening days, and our godfathers and godmothers. And only think, I had not the least notion when I was christened. I could tell nothing but that Mr. Wenlock was my godfather! It made me feel quite foolish not to know my godmothers.’
‘We were in no situation to have things done in order,’ said Mr. Kendal, gravely. ‘If I recollect rightly, one of your godmothers was Captain Lee’s pretty young wife, who died a few weeks after.’
‘And the other?’ said Lucy.
‘Your mother, I believe,’ he said.
Lucy employed herself in filling up her paper, and exclaimed, ‘Now I do not know the date! Can you tell me that, papa?’
‘It was the Christmas-day next after your birth,’ he said. ‘I remember that, for we took you to spend Christmas at the nearest station of troops, and the chaplain christened you.’